


Feeding Strays

by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hurt/Comfort, Kinks, M/M, Slow Burn, Spanking, Surgeon/Cop AU, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, awkward sick bathing, beginnings of sexual tension, but hannibal helps him this time, hannibal is the surgeon, ladder makeout, will is a cop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 62,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforethedawn/pseuds/beforethedawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstructFairytales/pseuds/ConstructFairytales, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is a Baltimore cop who was stabbed during a stand off, and Hannibal Lecter is the lucky surgeon who get to stitch him back up. Will never expects to find his doctor very interesting, until Hannibal worms his way into Will's life, willing or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Beta'd by no one.  
> 2) yes it's another take on the surgeon/cop AU, but we've had this written for a long time (since September 2015)  
> 3) Tags to be added as we go, but it does get sexy.

Will was headstrong. He did what he had to do when it came to saving people. He'd spent years on the New Orleans police force, and never once did he have to open fire. It was either a curse, or a miracle.

He'd been in Maryland for a year, and not until today did he have to make good on his drawn gun. The perpetrator was in the run down house, not far from where he lived, just over the Virginia border, and he went in, gun raised.

The man had a knife, and a hostage.

Will had a gun, but he couldn't do it. He froze up, hand shaking. The hostage was let go, but the perp ran at Will, tackled him to the ground. The deranged suspect beat the gun from Will’s hand, stabbed him deep in the shoulder, and ran off.

He was caught, a mile up the road, by someone else. Will was taken by ambulance to the hospital, and now waited on a gurney in the Emergency Room. A nurse had checked him over, was able to stop the bleeding a bit, and got him hooked to an IV for antibiotics, just in case the blade had been infected. He was told the doctor would be in soon.

The emergency room was overrun, filled with screaming children, the sound of monitors, moaning, and exhausted nurses giving instructions to patients. Its waiting room burst at the seams, filled with people complaining of various ailments, and every member of the staff looked haggard and stressed, running around with medication or charts in hand.

Except for one.

The surgeon stood in the middle of the chaos, facing a wall with both hands clasped behind his back, reading an x-ray as though he were looking at a work of art in a gallery. After a moment, he picked up a chart and wrote a few lines of advice for the attending doctor to follow, then turned to face the nurse who nodded toward Will's room.

Unhurried and serene, the surgeon with high cheekbones and dark eyes moved through the human mess of the Emergency Room, almost as though he were simply not a  _ part  _ of the chaos, as though he could see right through it.

"Good Evening," his calm, accented voice said, as he entered the trauma room, reading Will's chart before he looked at him ... then looked again at the young officer, blinking as though caught off guard by his patient.

"I would ask what brings you here, but that is unfortunately obvious," he said, and changed his gloves before he approached Will's bleeding shoulder, and removed the blood-soaked gauze to look at the deep wound.

They had given Will something in his drip for the pain, even though he said it was fine, and he was, for now. Will was draped on one of those awful hospital gowns, too, off the shoulder to present his wound to the doctor, who Will avoided meeting eyes with.

"You'd be a terrible doctor if you couldn't tell," he mumbled.

A subtle smile graced Hannibal's lips, and he moved the bright overhead light to look in the wound.

"I would indeed," he agreed, and looked from Will's shoulder to his eyes. "Whomever stabbed you did a thorough job of it, is this your only injury?"

Hannibal wrote a few orders on Officer William Graham's chart, noting his birthday as he did so, and handed it off to a nurse.

Will’s inability to shoot the man who did this to him was going to come back and bite him in the ass. He'd been warned before that if he didn't get his shit together, he wouldn't be allowed to continue on.Will chewed the inside of his cheek, watching only the doctor's feet, which were clad in expensive leather dress shoes.

He would get one of  _ those _ doctors.

"Yes."

It'd been a fight, but the man hardly touched him otherwise.

"I strongly suspect that the bone at your shoulder joint has been damaged, but I am going to request an x-ray to confirm. If my suspicions are confirmed, I'd like to take you in for surgery immediately," Hannibal said, still studying Will's face before he took his hand to look at his fingernails, checking his perfusion by pressing on them, gently.

"Did you fall when you were attacked, Officer Graham?"

"I was shoved to the ground," Will answered, rolling his eyes at the need for an x-ray.

Couldn't this doctor just stitch him up and send him on his way? There had to be other people that needed his help more than Will.

No, he  _ knew  _ there were, he could just about feel the commotion of pain from the other room; it fogged around him, and made it almost hard to breathe.

"Are you impatient to be on your way, Officer Graham?" Hannibal asked, with some amusement as he palpated the back of Will's scalp, and watched his face for any sign on sensitivity.

Will looked at the doctor's face, but not at  _ him _ directly, a scowl there. He knew he wasn't going anywhere with the medication he had coursing through his veins right now, shoulder bleeding out.

This doctor was taking his damn fucking time, almost like he  _ enjoyed _ it.

No, no. He  _ did _ .

"Must be fun for you, leeching off everyone's pain here."

Hannibal's hands slowed, and he looked at the young officer with a very, very curious expression, and arched an eyebrow.

"You believe I  _ enjoy _ the pain and suffering of those around me?" Hannibal asked calmly, and palpated the back of Will's neck, gently, checking the cervical vertebrae.

Will let out an uneasy, huffed laugh, eyes coming to meet the doctor's, wondering if he was right, and as he met the brown-amber color, he knew he was.

"Oh, I  _ know _ you do."

"That is a serious accusation, with very serious implications, Officer," Hannibal replied, with the barest hint of a smile, staring back at Will.

"I won't tell," the officer said, almost teasing, maybe a little patronizing. Who was he to say anything anyway. What the surgeon did as long as it was his job, he didn't care.

Everyone had their thing.

The nurse left to page the imaging tech and lab, and Hannibal looked at Will, fascinated.

"How kind of you, in turn, I won't mention that you would make a  _ fascinating _ candidate for a psychiatric evaluation. I'm certain you're already facing one at work?"

"Constantly," Will said, aware that he wasn't the most stable person, at all, and this was the final straw for the department. "This will probably be my last visit here under their care."

"Tell me, Officer Graham, have they ever even come  _ close _ to the truth about you?" Hannibal asked, as he checked the bone of Will's other shoulder with his hands.

Despite the medication, Will winced at the touched, scowling at the doctor in turn. He was certain the surgeon was drawing this out now.

"They suspect a lot of thing about me. They cannot pinpoint a particular problem, which is good for me, because they can't discriminate."

"Aspergers?" Hannibal asked, with some amusement, and even chuckled. "Clearly incorrect. You have an  _ excess _ of empathy, you are impaired by your sensitivity to the motivations of those around you, not a deficit."

"They want to call it that, and then they don't. It's good for them and bad. I've just proven it's bad," Will sighed, blinking, almost thankful for the blur from the pain medication as it kicked into high gear, only able to focus on the doctor now, not everyone else beyond the door. "Empathy and an overactive imagination."

"A rare, and beautiful gift, even if it produces a mind so sharp that I'm certain you cut yourself on the edges, over and over again," Hannibal said, and let Will's shoulder rest as the nurse returned with the imaging and lab techs.

"Then I'd suggest watching where you prod, doctor," Will murmured, almost a thread. "Dig too deep you might just cut yourself."

Will furrowed his brow at the techs.

Hannibal  _ gazed _ at Will for a moment, with what looked like pure admiration, and chuckled before he stepped out of the way.

"I will certainly keep that in mind, Mr. Graham, lie still now, please."

Will went to lie down, giving the Doctor a look, and then crossed his feet at the ankles. Stupid dumb dressing gowns.

He let the tech do his job, quiet for now, as the dull throb in his shoulder pounded away in his head, focusing on that and not the enigma that was Doctor.... whatever his name was. Will didn't get much other than the man's satisfaction from him.

The imaging and lab techs worked while the surgeon made a phone call, from across the small room.

Hannibal returned when they stepped back, and put a warmed blanket from a special cabinet over Will's crossed legs.

"I strongly suspect that we will take you into the operating room when those results return."

"Professional opinion?" Will asked, rolling his eyes, though he suspected the doctor was right. Why waste time with it if it was was easy as just stitching it back closed?

"From what I can feel, the bone was chipped inside the shoulder joint. If we don't remove the loose chips, it could be as damaging as leaving a bullet inside you," Hannibal said, as he watched the exasperated officer, and drew more pain medication into a syringe.

"If I am not incorrect, you've spent time in Louisiana..." the surgeon added, conversationally, as though they were chatting over dinner, not a bloodied shoulder.

"Cheater. You looked at my chart," Will said, almost drowsy with the pain medication, and saw the doctor putting  _ more _ in.

"It does not say where you've been on your chart," Hannibal said with a smirk, as he injected the drug into Will's IV.

"Your accent gave it away."

His chart would have place of birth though, but Will was not into arguing right now, and if he did, he might just punch the doctor.

"Expert on accents now? What don't you do, doctor?"

"One of the radiologists here has a strong New Orleans accent, I must admit, of all the southern accents of this country, I find it the most appealing," Hannibal murmured.

"Parlez-vous francais, Officer Graham?" he asked, almost flirtatiously.

Will snorted, shaking his head, his eyes closed as his body felt the pleasant numbness take over.

"Oui. Broken Cajun French, I'm afraid. Sorry to disappoint."

Hannibal smiled at that, charmed by Will's feisty nature.

"Not a disappointment in the least," he assured Will, and went to the large-screen on the wall as the x-ray loaded.

"Just as I suspected, several sharp bone fragments in the joint," Hannibal nodded, and looked at Will's bones, all of them, with a sigh. "You have remarkable structure, otherwise, perfectly even."

Will rolled his eyes, and lifted his head to see. All he saw were bones, and a chunks of bones in his shoulder. Augh. "Is it in your nature to be so...  _ charming _ with your patients, doctor..."

"Only those who intrigue me," Hannibal answered, and took the brakes off of Will's stretcher, then pushed his bed out of the room.

"Wait, wait, we're going  _ now _ ?"  Not that he expected much else, and the sharp movement he made to stop the doctor and the nurses only made his head spin, and he dropped back, eyes closed. "I'd hate to see how you treat those you despise."

"Waiting is hardly going to improve your condition," Hannibal said as he wheeled Will down the hallway himself, which was unusual for the surgeon. "And who knows, perhaps you'd enjoy seeing how I treat the rude..."

Will let out a snort, regarding the doctor lightly. He expected never to see this man after this.

No, he would refuse to. Hospitals were not his thing, not one bit.

"Politely refuse them care?" Will asked.

"I would never refuse care," Hannibal chuckled, and pushed Will's stretcher into an elevator, then pressed a button.

The doors closed, and they were profoundly alone.

Will went quiet, all except his mind, and he was trying very hard not to focus on the doctor standing above him, almost where he couldn't see him.

Oh, but he could  _ feel _ him there.

"You're a strange doctor."

"I hope you don't mind if I take that as a compliment, Officer Graham," Hannibal murmured, looking at Will from where he stood. "Considering it came from a very strange police officer, after all."

Hannibal brushed some dark, blood spattered curls out of Will's eyes. The gesture was caring, and intimate in the small space of the elevator.

Will shied away from the touch, though there was hardly anywhere to go.

"They'll probably put me on leave after this. And then let me go. It'll just be Mister Graham then, but that was my father... so... Will Graham."

His tongue felt oddly loose, aware he was rambling now that the medication had kicked in full gear.

"Will Graham," Hannibal repeated, the name exotic and smooth on his tongue.

The doors opened, and Hannibal pushed the stretcher out.

"Tell me, Will, what will you do once your time as an officer comes to an end?"

"I'mma try to apply at the FBI again," The young officer stated, his words garbled, and thick with his accent.

Hannibal wheeled Will through a series of doors, and into an empty room, an operating theatre readied for them, instruments waiting, wrapped and sterile. The room was warm and dark, save for the bright overhead light.

"What motivated your interest in law enforcement, Will?" Hannibal asked, as he washed his hands thoroughly in the sink, up well-muscled forearms to his elbows. The sound of water flowing over the surgeon’s skin filled the silence.

"I have a knack for getting in the heads of criminals," Will whispered, staring up at the light over head. "Guess you could say I have a criminal mind and a want to help people."

"What an intriguing duality," Hannibal murmured as he put a gown on over his scrubs, re-gloved, then returned to Will to look at his shoulder. "When did you discover your talent?"

Hannibal injected Will's shoulder with freezing in several places.

Will grimaced, watching the doctor out of the corner of his sea blue eyes. "I was about ten when I realized it wasn't normal. Kid at school stole something from someone else, denied it, and I proved it. All I had to do was look at the desk he rummaged through."

"I'm certain that did not make you popular," Hannibal said, knowingly, and waited for the generous amounts of freezing to seep into the tissue around the wound.

"Dumb luck mostly, though, but then people asked me to do it again, and again. I got good at it," he murmured, drawling around his words in a few places.

"Being good at something does make you a target.”

"It certainly does," Hannibal agreed, and tested the freezing by poking at the tissue with a needle. "Children can be  _ cruel _ ."

" _ People _ can be cruel," Will  said, giving the doctor a slight raised brow look, turning his head to see that he was poking at his own numb flesh.

"You always do these surgeries alone?"

"When I do not require an assistant, and all staff are occupied, yes," Hannibal said, and cut the wound open a little more.

Will sighed, letting his eyes close as the doctor worked on him, the light bright above him making his sight tiresome. "Busy night then."

"Quite busy," Hannibal said, as he spread the incision, and pinned the skin aside. "Can you feel any pain, Will?"

"No." Will turned his head and looked at what the surgeon was doing, and blinked. Gore and such never bothered him much.

Hannibal noticed, and his eyes shone with pleasure at the observation.

"Not the squeamish sort?" Hannibal very, very carefully used a pair of forceps to remove the first bone chip.

"Can't be in what I do," Will muttered, eyes half closed again. He'd rather be out for this, but at least this way he could go  _ home _ after.

"I don't suppose you can, but you would be surprised at who cannot stand the sight of their own blood," Hannibal said, knowingly as he picked out another piece. the size of a shelled almond.

"It's not usually my own that bothers me." Will could stand to see crime scenes, the gore and splatter, but fresh gushing blood from someone always seemed to make him  _ feel _ for them, and it was rough.

"The massacre of others brings you more pain than anything you could suffer, in a bodily sense," Hannibal murmured.

"Is that how you were injured? Attempting to prevent an innocent from being harmed? I doubt very much you would risk this injury for the recovery of a mere material good."

"Hostage," Will said, swallowing thickly, and then took a deep breath, able to feel the moving around in his shoulder, but no pain.

"A woman? Child?" Hannibal asked, and dropped another bit of bone into the metal pan.

"A woman." Will turned his eyes to the clinking; there was a lot in there already. "Take bone out, what replaces it?"

"I can see the sharp edge, and I can file it down, easily, to prevent further injury. The joint itself is unaffected, it is just the edge of the clavicle that was chipped by the knife. You will be here for a couple of days."

Will eyes stabbed open completely, and looked at the doctor with a building fury.

"Days? Here? No, no... I can't stay days here..."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow as he extracted the last chip.

"Do you have a child to care for, Will?"

Will wrinkled his nose up at the assumption. As if someone like  _ him _ had a child. Yeah, right. "Dogs."

"Surely a friend, or family member would be able to care for them while you are here," Hannibal said, evenly.

He looked through the muscle, certain that he found all the large pieces of bone.

Will had only just moved to the area a year ago, and he hardly had any friends, let alone family. "I don't think my dad is going to make a trip from New Orleans to come here and watch my  _ dogs _ ."

“Friends?”

"I'm not exactly social," Will grumbled, rubbing his face with one hand, mentally calculating if he had put out enough food for them, and then if he could just check himself out in the morning once the surgeon was gone.

"I can refer social services to check on them for you, given of course that none of them are aggressive," Hannibal said, and started up an instrument that sounded like a saw.

"I don't want someone they don't know going to check on 'em. Buster gets a little riled..."

"How many dogs do you have?" Hannibal asked, and began to file down the edges of the bone. "You will feel some pressure now, but no pain..."

"Seven."

He tipped his head to look, and then away again. It was  _ strange _ to watch.

"You find them easier to connect with than humans, or at least less prone to disappointing you," Hannibal said, through the mask he wore, then shut the file off and inspected the bone. "Is that correct?"

"Are you a psychologist or a surgeon?" Will asked, almost bitter, but didn't answer the question. He didn't like people inside his head.

"I've always held an interest in the psychological, just as much as the physiological."Hannibal filed the edge again, until it was perfect, then used a small tube to vacuum out the tiny debris.

Will rolled his eyes at that.,"Do you always attempt to psychoanalyze your patients?"

"Only when I find it is worth the effort," Hannibal said, and stopped the vacuum to inspect his work, then started to ease the shoulder muscles back into place, working fastidiously. "To be perfectly honest, I find most of my patients painfully ordinary."

Will laughed bitterly, not in the mood for mind games. "Please, just find me ordinary."

"I am afraid that is impossible," Hannibal sighed, and closed the wound, then began to stitch it closed, with stitches that were like everything the doctor did: precise and painstaking.

"Are you always so charming, or am I especially lucky today?"

"You have no idea," Will grumbled, looking up into the light above them, hoping to just let it burn his eyes out so he could die.

"I now understand the lack of friends and significant others," Hannibal murmured lightly as he snipped off the ends of the stitches he'd made so far, and kept going across Will's shoulder. He almost  _ enjoyed _ Will's rudeness the way he might enjoy horseradish.

"I don't really find a need to impress others. I am who I am," Will sighed, canting his head back to look at the doctor, chin tilted up.

"You like impressing people though. You think it's nice to be elated and praised."

"You are who you are ... and yet you allow others to think you much less harmful than I'm sure you can be," Hannibal said, calmly. "I do not know a single person who does not enjoy being elated, Will. Perhaps you do not because you fear you will lose the feeling. Those who are hungriest are most wary of losing a source of nourishment, I would suppose it is the same with happiness."

"If you're trying to get under my skin, you'll be sorely disappointed." Will didn't do well with Therapy for a reason, and even a free session was not a good session. It was worse.

"I have already been under your skin," Hannibal said with a soft smirk, and clipped the last stitch. "It was a messy affair, but I would be lying if I said I did not enjoy it."

"Sadist," Will hummed, blinking up at Hannibal once and then ahead again. "I really need to stay for a few days for  _ this _ ? You didn't even put me under."

"The severity of an injury is not determined by whether or not the patient was under general or local anesthetic," Hannibal said with a soft smile, and bandaged Will's shoulder expertly. "Some brain surgery is performed while the patient is completely awake."

"That's horrible." Will sighed, he didn't have anything with him, not even his cell phone. It would provide to be a very, very boring two days unless he got out.

"It is not done to torture the patient," Hannibal sighed, and checked Will's vitals, then administered another drug and recorded it on his chart."It is necessary to see the effects of the surgery in real time, in some instances. The patient feels no pain, just as you felt no pain."

"What did you just give me?" Will had watched him but didn't see what it was, and a panic started to envelop him.

"An antibiotic," Hannibal said, with perfect innocence, and handed Will the half-empty vial he had pocketed that read "Piperacillin-Tazobactam".

"Are you afraid I am going to poison you?" Hannibal asked, almost hurt.

Will read it, but his eyes focused more on the doctor than the bottle, breathing a little hard. "Most doctors tell their patients what they're giving them."

"My apologies," Hannibal said, with a polite incline of his head. "I assumed you were rather fatigued. You've been unconcerned with your medication thus far, I will make certain to obtain your full consent in the future."

Will had to stop himself from rolling his eyes further than before, and kept his eyes forward, above him. "See that you do."

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mister Graham?" Hannibal asked, with only the lightest touch of sarcasm in his voice as he covered Will with another warmed blanket, well  _ aware _ that every act of courtesy was irritating the young officer.

"Take me to recovery, that'd be nice." Will snuggled down a little under the blanket,like he was trying to  _ hide _ .

Will ordered the hospital's best surgeon around like he was an orderly, and even to  _ Hannibal's _ surprise, he felt himself smile, inwardly.

"As you wish," Hannibal chuckled, and pushed Will into the recovery room, where the nurses looked up.

"Are you thirsty, Officer?"

"I'm fine.” What Will wanted was for the doctor to  _ go _ , and get  _ out _ . He was done being here. "I'm sure you have many more patients to attend to before your shift is over."

"I do," Hannibal replied, and looked Will's face over, then gave him a nod, and scribbled something else on his chart.

"I will bid you good evening then, Will, and see you in the morning."

"Yeah, sure."

With any luck, he'd be gone by the time the doctor was back on duty. He just needed to get weaned off his medication and get something for home.

Hannibal handed the chart to one of the nurses, and gave them a few quiet instructions for Will’s care, then took a last look at his difficult, handsome patient, and let himself out.


	2. Chapter 2

Will waited until they had told him that the doctor who worked on him (come to find out his name was Hannibal Lecter, of all things) had left, asked for pills to take home, and signed himself out. He took a cab to the police station, picked up his old station wagon, and drove home the hour and half to Wolf Trap.

Once home, he let all the dogs out, redressed his wound, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and changed into more comfortable clothes. Sweats, t-shirt, and jacket, sitting on the porch as he watched the dogs in the cool end of summer breeze.

The quiet motor of an expensive car made the dogs look up long before Will would have been able to hear it.

When the Bentley pulled into the drive near the house, and the smooth engine shut off, Buster was already barking at it, excited and ready to defend Will against whatever got out of the car's shadowy interior.

A very, very well dressed man stepped out. He looked much taller like this than he did in scrubs and an OR gown. His ashy hair was combed neatly, and cascaded over his forehead.

"Officer Graham?"

Will watched with dismay as the car pulled into  _ his _ drive, but whose else would it be? He had no neighbors for miles. The man who got out looked nothing like the OR doctor who helped him: tall, handsome, and well put together.

Doctor fancy pants indeed.

Will sighed, shoulders slumped, hardly caring that his appearance might be even less savory than it was in the Emergency room.

"Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal closed the car door with a gloved hand, and walked closer to Will, looking him over as the dogs ran around him, sniffing at his coat with intense interest.

"I was told you signed yourself out against medical advice mere  _ hours _ after your surgery."

Will whistled at the dogs; "Down, c'mon. You know better."

The dogs backed off a little, trailing behind Lecter instead. Will swirled his ice laden whiskey, leaned into the railing of his rickety porch. "I don't do well restrained and confined to a bed."

A flicker of admiration and amusement warmed Hannibal's eyes again, and he looked down at the dogs, then back up at Will.

"No better than they might do, perhaps?" Lecter asked, as though refraining from saying something less professional.

"They are the other reason I signed myself out."

Really, Lecter should have seen that coming, and Will was almost disappointed the man hadn't tried to stick around and make him stay. He'd given him every reason to worry he might bolt.

"I was going to offer  _ my _ services as an emergency dog-minder," Hannibal said, and walked up to the porch, his eyes moving over Will's face, down to the glass in his hand.

Poptart, the strange-looking bulldog cross with a face only a mother could love and a severe underbite barked up at Hannibal, and then sniffed his leg, pawing to be pet.

"You don't seem like a dog person, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal looked down at poptart, bewildered by the dog's appearance, then leaned a little closer, and let Poptart sniff his hand. "I would rather learn to become more fond of canines than to lose a patient simply because he refuses to stay in the hospital longer than a few hours."

Will downed his whiskey, and set the cup on the rail for a moment. "I'm hardly in a place where I would have died without your care. Painful, maybe."

"Infection can set in very quickly after surgery. Internal bleeding, no matter how trivial the wound may seem, is equally dangerous," Hannibal said, factually. "It seems I must adjust my care plan to accommodate the nature of my patient."

"You... made a _ house _ call to come check on me? How very... resolute of you, doctor." Will made no grab to open his front door to the man, and stood his ground, all frazzled clothes, and curly, unruly hair. His glasses were on, too.

"I consider it my duty as your last, most responsible physician to ascertain why you left suddenly and against advice, and to ensure that you are not suffering," Hannibal said, and made no motion to force his way into the house.

"Do I seem like I am suffering?" Will asked, realizing now just how much broader than Will the doctor stood.

"When is the last time you ate?" Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head. Perceptive, dark eyes drank in every detail about Will: the light sweat on his skin, his unkempt hair, the subtle smell people had about them when they were hungry.

"The jello that the nice nurse gave me this morning before I demanded to be let go," Will said, matter of fact, and moved to let the dogs into the house as they pawed at the door.

Hannibal let the dogs pass him, and looked down at the toothy one who stayed at his side. "May I offer you dinner? I always bring my own meals to work, and I seem to have misjudged how long I would be there."

"You brought food?"

Why was Will not all that surprised?

Will licked his teeth, seething a little, and then walked into his house, leaving the door open for the doctor.

"I happen to have brought some, yes," Hannibal said, and took the open door as an invitation.

He stepped inside, and looked around. The house seemed utterly utilitarian. The furnishings were mismatched and simple, carelessly selected.

"Thank you."

The furniture was all from home, or bought because Will needed something. He had his bed by the window of the living room, dog beds throughout by the fireplace, a breakfast bar that lead into the kitchen, which was small but useful. By another window he had his fly fishing lure making set up.

"You're a very strange doctor."

"That's the second time you've told me you thought so," Hannibal murmured, not unpleased with Will's assessment.

He opened the leather bag over his shoulder, and pulled out a few containers.

"This is better warm, of course..."

"Maybe unethical is a better word for you."

No doctor, let alone surgeon did house calls these days, it was unheard of.

Will lead him to the kitchen.

"Microwave if you want it, the oven works too."

"The oven is preferable, if it's not too much trouble," Hannibal said, and removed his long coat. He was wearing a very flattering vest over his dress shirt and tie, the pants tailored to show the length of his legs. "Tell me Will, what makes me unethical, in your mind?"

Will turned the oven on for Lecter and then pulled a baking sheet out for him with his one good arm to put his dishes on to heat the food.

"The way you talk to me. Most surgeons don't take quite a personal interest in their patients. Get them in, get them fixed, get them  _ out _ ."

"You object to my concern?" Hannibal asked, watching Will move, particularly the way he adapted to his injury.

Will used more of his other arm so he didn't pull on his wound, it was all he could do, and he refused to let anyone help him. He lived alone, there was no one to help him anyway.

"I just find it odd. I'm sure you don't do this for everyone. So the question remains: Why?"

"You struck me as a man with whom I have more in common than I think you could imagine right now," Hannibal said, obliquely, and washed his hands in Will's scratched up sink.

He began to arrange the pasta and what looked like filet mignon on the pans,not meeting Will's eyes for once. "It is a rare feeling, for me, to find one with whom I feel likeness, if not  _ agreement _ . I feel it would be wasteful to let someone so rare retreat into solitude to neglect his medication and likely become very ill."

Will balked, staring at Lecter, blinking. How did this man just assume they shared likeness? Will saw nothing in himself from the other man. There was nothing at all.

Then again he knew very little of the man.

"I'm taking my medication..."

"When was your last dose?" Hannibal asked, as he put the pans in the oven, and straightened, neatly, then wiped his hands on a ratty but clean looking towel, and looked at Poptart, who was now wagging at him.

"When I got home. I didn't want to take them and have to drive," Will said, and looked at the bottles on the counter for what they had given him at the hospital.

"Did you take all of the pills together?" the surgeon asked, going to the bottles and examining them with a frown, followed by the pup who looked like a furry gargoyle.

"I took the antibiotic with some toast, and the pain killer I haven't taken yet." He'd had a whiskey instead.

Hannibal turned the bottle of antibiotics and showed Will a label on the side.

"You are aware that these do not mix with alcohol?"

"Only aware of the other ones being," Will said, and hummed a little disapproval at himself. It was only two fingers, it's not like he drank the whole bottle.

"If the medication has not already made you dizzy, you are certainly going to feel the effects very soon," Hannibal sighed, and poured a glass of water for Will after frowning at the spots on the glass.

He handed it over, courteously.

"Thanks..." Will took the water, feeling out of place suddenly in his own kitchen. He sat at the breakfast bar, feet dangling.

"This particular antibiotic can also thin the blood a little, as can alcohol. Both of them at once for a long period of time could present significant complications," Hannibal said, in an educational tone as he found plates and cutlery, readying everything for the impromptu dinner.

"Luckily I only had a little." Will drank the water down, giving Lecter a look as he did. "You really drove almost two hours to get here just to check on me?"

"I have a few days off, I am not in a hurry to return to my house in Baltimore," Hannibal said, without looking at Will. He checked on the meal in the oven and closed it again, then looked at Poptart, still confused by her strange fondness for him.

"She likes strangers. Terrible guard dog," Will murmured, leaning on the counter with his good shoulder.

"She reminds me of gargoyles on the Notre Dame in Paris," Hannibal said, looking down at the white dog with the ridiculous underbite.

Will snorted at that, and rolled his eyes. "I manage to take in rescues most people do not want."

"You are far more comfortable in the role of rescuer than the role of rescued," Hannibal observed, watching Will as he set the breakfast bar for the both of them.

Will quirked his shoulder up, shrugging a little. "I don't do well with the attention." He leaned over the bar to turn the tap on, and fill his glass.

Hannibal took the glass from the injured man and refilled it for him, then handed it back. "Why not? What does the attention make you feel?"

"Thanks." Will drank the water, and sat back on the stool, starting to feel that dizziness Lecter mentioned. "I... weird. I don't socialize. I can't."

"As you it obligates you to return the favour, perhaps?" Hannibal asked, as he took the food out of the oven. The air was suddenly fragrant with the smell of his cooking.

"Usually that’s the polite thing to do. With my... disorder, it's easy to get caught up in people, but it's also draining." Will pushed his glasses up his nose a little, as if using them as a guard to keep Lecter  _ out _ .

"Your disorder," Hannibal nodded, and arranged the food on their plates. "When were you diagnosed? As a child?"

"You can't diagnose something that doesn't really exist," Will explained, watching as the older man arranged food like they were at a restaurant.

"You are unique," Hannibal agreed, and brought the food to Will, setting it in front of him before he sat beside him at the breakfast bar. "And with rarity comes great value."

"I feel like a piece of antique furniture up for auction," Will quipped, cutting the steak with his knife, and put a piece into his mouth, with a little hum.

"A person can be considered valuable due to their rare nature, that is the very concept of genius," Hannibal said, and took a bite.

Starved, Will took a few more bites before he said anything else, and drank the water down. "And you find me valuable?" he canted his head to look at the doctor, to analyze him behind his lenses.

"I find you  _ very _ interesting, and admittedly, I find most people very dull," Hannibal said, looking at Will through his glasses. The rims and planes of glass were no obstacle to Hannibal, Will was luminous in a way that they could never hide.

Will shook his head and stuffed another bite into his mouth. "I don't find you that interesting," he said, aware that it was  _ rude _ , but he was nothing if not honest.

Hannibal's eyes crinkled, ever so slightly, and he looked at Will with a barely there, knowing grin.

"You will."

Will almost felt mocked for a second there, and he chewed another bite slowly. Lecter was a strange man, not just a strange  _ Doctor _ .

"Tell me something interesting then."

"I had a pet wolf as a child," Hannibal said, quite aware that that particular personal detail, something he had never shared with  _ anyone _ else would likely interest the man who reminded him so much of that wolf.

"A wolf?" Will quirked his brow at him, curious, sure okay, but not interesting. Not yet.

Hannibal nodded, and sipped his water, then looked at it, impressed with the purity of it. He guessed that Will had it drawn up from a well on his land.

"I grew up in Lithuania, on a very large property," he explained, looking at his water as he spoke, not Will.

"I did not know other children until my younger sister was born, and I was much, much older than she was. I occupied myself with books and tutors, and enjoyed drawing the scenery of the area. When I was approximately seven, I was outside, and approached by a wolf. He was definitely wild, and extremely thin. I thought he was very beautiful, and did not want him to leave, so I fed him half of the lunch I had packed with me."

Hannibal turned the glass with his hands, and took another drink.

"I came back the next day, and the next, and he was there, everytime, waiting. I brought more and more food, meat, especially, and fed him. Slowly, we became comfortable with each other, and he would follow me on walks."

Will listened, and as he finished his meal, he realized the terrible truth of the story he had just heard. The question was, was it a real story now, or one made up?

Will sipped his water. "Win a wolf over with meals, make a friend. Is that what this is?"

Hannibal chuckled and shook his head, but looked at Will with an amused smile, impressed. "Associations come easily to you."

Will guarded himself, able to see how easily it was for Lecter to past his defenses, to talk to him, made him... at ease. He slid off the stool and cleared the plates with one hand and set them in the sink.

Hannibal watched Will, reminded even more of his very first friend, as though the wolf had taken human form. Will was too wild to be befriended easily.

"I will admit, there is a certain similarity. You have wolfish qualities to you, but my decision to share my meal was entirely coincidence."

"You just happened to be carrying around your dinner?" Will raised his eyes to look at the other man, brow quirked. "You don't like restaurants. You prefer to know where your food comes from."

"I am very careful about what I put into my body," Hannibal agreed with Will's assessment of him, and even looked pleased.

"There is the odd restaurant I enjoy, but I  _ do _ prefer to make everything myself."

"Which place?" he asked, cleaning the plates and letting them sit in the other side of the sink to dry.

"There are three in Paris, one in London, a handful in Florence, and one in New York that I enjoy," Hannibal said, and walked closer to Will to take the dishes from him.

"The restaurant in New York is called 'Le Chiffre'," he said, and set the dishes on the counter. "You should not aggravate your injury with dish washing, Will."

"Sounds pretentious." Will sighed, looking at Hannibal next to him, having to look up a little to meet his eyes, for once. "I can't very well ask  _ you _ to do the dishes since you cooked."

"It's hardly an entire party's worth of dishes," Hannibal said with a shake of his head, and rolled up his sleeves.

"Two plates, two forks, two knives. I don't mind. Please, take your painkiller while you have a full stomach."

Will stepped away and snatched his bottle off the counter, and shook out the pill, and drank it down. He hated taking them because it meant a loss of control.  _ Real _ control.

"Yes, sir."

"Is that sarcasm I sense, Will?" Hannibal asked, as he began to wash the dishes, with surgical skill, giving the plain dishes and cutlery a more thorough scrubbing than a dishwasher would.

"It might be,  _ Hannibal _ ." Will leaned against the counter, watching Hannibal more than he should be, but he was slightly mesmerized.

By the time he realized he'd been staring, Hannibal was finished.

Hannibal rinsed out the sink, and left the dishes to drip dry in the rack in the sink, then looked as Will as he dried his hands on a towel.

"Perhaps it is time for you to rest, those pills can be particularly potent."

"You're going to put me to bed, too?" Will asked, realizing what he had said after it came out of his mouth, and flushed up to his ears. He turned from Hannibal and walked to his bed, just in the living room.

Hannibal watched the pink flush wash over Will's features, and watched him walk to the bed in the living room, which gave Hannibal some pause.

"Do you have house-mates?"

"Just the dogs," Will said, who was all curled up in their own beds by the fireplace. He sat down, dizzy.

"The house must look much larger from the outside," Hannibal said as Will sat on his bed. "Or do you simply prefer not to use the other rooms?"

"There's an upstairs. A bedroom and a bathroom. I... prefer to be here by the door. Safety thing." He shrugged it off with a flick of his hand.

"I see," Hannibal said, graciously, and found the light switch in the kitchen to turn off the lights, leaving the space dimly lit. "A man's house is his castle."

"Are you planning on staying?" Will asked, not even crawled into bed yet, he had this feeling that turning his back on the doctor wouldn't be wise.

"If you'd prefer, I will leave," Hannibal offered. "Or, I could take your dogs for a walk, return, and feed them for you.

The dogs were on their feet the second the word 'walk' left Hannibal's mouth. Will sighed, Buster had the leash in his mouth already. "Yeah, that'd be nice..."

"Very well," Hannibal nodded, and took Buster's leash, then followed the trail of eager dogs to their rack of collars, hung in a rather tangled mess.

"We will return very soon."

"Sure. Thanks. The food is in the fridge, it just needs to be heated a little." Will laid down on the bed, his head swimming, and curled up under a blanket.

"I think I can manage. Good night, Will," Hannibal said, and opened the door, almost /yanked/ out as the dogs LUNGED to go for their walk.

The door was blown shut behind him, and Hannibal jogged behind the pack of dogs, clearly unused to the power of a pack. Will laughed, knowing that the dogs could be very powerful, and just hoped they gave the doctor a run for his money. He sighed, head to the pillow, and fell asleep.

Drug induced sleep was always the worst, as his nightmares got more vivid, this time about the other night he was stabbed, only there was a  _ stag _ there, pushing him along to shoot the other man. When he didn't the stag's antlers started to prod through his ribs, out through his chest...

Will woke, panting.

It was light outside, the pale light of dawn. Winston was on the bed with Will, and licked his sweating face.

The house was  _ clean _ , even the dog beds looked vacuumed free of hair, and the other dogs slept in a heap in front of the still crackling fire.

In the corner, in a shadow cast by the mantle, Hannibal slept in a chair, arranged gracefully with a book in his lap.

Will calmed his breath, and blinked the sleep from his eyes, sopping in sweat. He reached for the water on the nightstand and drank it, and then got out of bed, Winston at his side always, and moved to the dresser to find not sweaty clothes to wear.

Poptart stretched from her place where she laid over Hannibal's feet, and the sound of her wagging and Will moving around woke the other dogs, but not the surgeon in the corner.

They looked up at Will and wagged, but didn't move, obviously quite happy and well-fed where they were.

He hushed them as he pulled out clean boxers and shirt, not wanting to wake the other man up. He stripped down and walked to the kitchen to toss the clothes into the hamper, and then put the new ones on. He flipped the coffee pot on while he was at it.

The kitchen was gleaming, scrubbed down like the house was going to be up for sale, but Will's medications were nowhere to be seen.

"They've been fed," Hannibal said from the doorway.

Will startled, turning around to see Hannibal standing there, placed a hand over his heart as it beat faster. "Thought you were sleeping."

"I was, but this one thought I should wake," Hannibal said with a nod at Poptart, and stepped into the kitchen, frowning at Will in concern. "You've been sweating?"

"Night terrors," Will explained, as if that were the answer to everything. "Sorry they woke you."

"It's more sleep than I commonly am able to achieve when on call," Hannibal said, and stepped closer to Will, then put a hand against his forehead, clinically. "You are warm," he sighed, and shifted his jaw.

Hannibal's hand was blissfully cool against his skin, and Will found himself leaning into it a bit. "I was just stabbed."

"And you are supposedly on strong antibiotics, which are meant to prevent just such a thing from occurring," Hannibal murmured, and let Will lean, then took a deep breath of his skin.

"Are you  _ smelling _ me?" Will pulled back, blinking up at Hannibal. "I get these sometimes. It's not unusual."

"How long have you been waking in such a state?" Hannibal asked, the greased wheels of his powerful mind turning as he regarded Will, and thought about what he smelled under his skin.

"A few months. I get nightmares a lot."

The sweats seemed to be newer, but the days were warmer too.

Will looked around.

"Where  _ are _ my pills?"

"I have them," Hannibal said, and pulled the bottle out of his jacket pocket, then shook one out for Will, and gave him a glass of water.

"The dogs were curious about what they were, I am loath to think what chewing the bottle open might do to them."

"They don't do that," Will said, and took the pill down without question, with some of his water.

He was still sweating.

"That's a relief, I wasn't sure," Hannibal said, and looked at Poptart, who was still following him around.

"I'm concerned, Will, that having deviated from your scheduled doses has resulted in an antibiotic resistance."

"That's a thing?" Will asked, picking up a treat from the jar on the counter and tossed one to Poptart, who made very loud munching noises.

"Yes," Hannibal nodded, and produced a handful of small treats, they looked like chopped, dried jerky.

"I took the liberty of bringing some jerky for the dogs," he said, modestly, and watched as Poptart stood on her hind legs for one of the pieces.

Will raised his brow at Hannibal, ignoring that the man thought there was something wrong with him illness wise, and moved right on to his dogs. "You barely know me and you're buying treats for my dogs?"

"Is that unacceptable?" Hannibal asked, as Poptart gave a soft little whimper, drooling at the smell of her favorite treats. "If so, my apologies. I've over-stepped."

Will shivered a little, shaking his head. "No, it's fine. You're..." he shrugged, looking at Hannibal, completely and utterly innocent to the fact he was slowly winning Will's friendship.

"I won't purchase anything else for them without your permission," Hannibal agreed, and seemed a little embarrassed, then cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, like it ached from sleeping in the chair. "Yes, an antibiotic resistance is possible. I may have to put you on something stronger very quickly. If your body is incubating a resistant organism, particularly in a wound with orthopedic complications, the results can be very, very serious."

"It's fine. I made most of their treats by hand is all. I like to know that they're getting quality, not fillers." Will offered Hannibal a little smile, which was strange to see on the usually grumpy man's face. "Just what I need, stronger medication." He sighed.

"No fillers at all, I purchased the jerky from a Butcher shop in town," Hannibal promised, and his dark eyes noted the little smile, then went to Will's as he stepped closer. "I know that is far from ideal, but the alternative is a very, very long illness, or worse. Some resistant organisms can eat human flesh at an astonishing rate."

"That's fine then." Will took a step back, having to look up at Hannibal as he got closer."I should get dressed then, we'll have to go into town?"

"I can have something delivered from the hospital, if you'd prefer to stay in," Hannibal offered, looking down into Will's eyes as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"No one likes delivering out this far," Will mused, but let Hannibal attempt to convince someone. All the better for him, he didn't want to drive.

"And I would like even less to have to drive  _ you _ all the way to the hospital in your state," Hannibal sighed, then dialed a number on his phone, and stepped away, politely, so that he didn't exacerbate what he suspected was a bad headache Will was never able to get rid of.

Will reached for the aspirin, because Hannibal was right, he did have a headache he couldn't seem to get rid of. He swallowed those too, and then flopped down on his bed, closing his eyes for a second.

Hannibal stepped back into the living room with a cool glass of water in hand, this one with ice cubes that Hannibal must have bothered to make while Will slept. "We will receive what you need very soon," he promised, and brought his bag closer, to remove a thermometer from a leather case. "I'd like to take your temperature before you drink, if you don't mind."

"My own personal doctor, how did I get so lucky," Will murmured, sitting up again, and wrapped a blanket around his mostly naked legs.

He opened his mouth for it for the thermometer.

Hannibal placed the thermometer beneath Will's tongue, and chuckled a little at what he said, even blushing slightly as he did so. "Consider yourself the beneficiary of my own isolation," Hannibal said, quietly, not meeting Will's eyes when he did.

Oh. Loneliness. Will understood, maybe too well, and just let his gaze look over the doctor's tired expression. No one he'd latched on to someone who might actually understand him, if only because Will could empathize. He tugged the blanket around him more, the sweat he had now chilling as it dried.

The thermometer beeped, and Hannibal removed it with a raised set of brows.

"One hundred and two," he sighed, and handed Will his glass of water, tutting softly as he took the thermometer to the kitchen to rinse it, and came back.

"I'm afraid you are  _ officially _ feverish, Will."

"I'd say that one hundred and two is a bit more than feverish," the younger man quipped back, sipping the cool water.

Maybe this was payback for not staying at the hospital.

"This is precisely why we insist patients adhere to a rigorous schedule when on these antibiotics," Hannibal said, and went back to the kitchen to bring Will a fresh, cold cloth, which he used to blot his forehead.

"I didn't miss any doses," Will said, head tilted up as Hannibal took  _ care _ of him.

No one had taken care of him in a long, long time.

Hannibal laid the cool cloth over the back of Will's neck after he had blotted sweat from his flushed forehead and cheek, and looked at him, thoughtfully.

"You took  _ all _ of your doses? Precisely on schedule?" Hannibal asked, with a dark, thoughtful look.

"I wasn't given a schedule, just the three times a day ordeal." Will bent forward, too hot and too cold at once, he could feel himself shivering.

Hannibal sighed with annoyance, and found a thin sheet in a nearby closet, then shook it out, and wrapped it around Will's shoulders.

"The doses must be evenly spaced," Hannibal said, patiently, and began to blot Will's face and chest with another wet cloth when he returned from the kitchen.

"May I take your pulse?" he asked, his hand out for Will's wrist.

Will handed his wrist over, watching Hannibal and how close he was to him right now, and if he wasn't feeling as shitty as he was, he might have laughed that the doctor was just using this to get closer.

"Was I spacing them wrong?"

Hannibal took Will's wrist, and took Will's pulse with a little frown at the speed.

"Most likely, unless they were spaced every eight hours," he murmured, and pressed the cool cloth to Will's cheek, then brushed Will's sweaty curls out of his eyes.

"Do you own a bathtub?"

"Yeah. Upstairs." Will let his head tip back at the brush of hand in his hair. How did he get to  _ this _ spot? How was he lucky that Lecter was here when he reached his worst?

"The best thing for you at the moment would be to soak in a cool bath, I'll draw one for you, and you can rest and cool down until your new medication arrives," Hannibal said, decisively, and headed toward the stairs.

Will blinked at Hannibal; he couldn't believe this man was actually taking care of him.

"You don't have to do that, I can do it..."

"Stay there, please," Hannibal said, and headed upstairs with grace. Poptart trailed after him and the sound of running water could be heard from the upstairs.

Winston hopped up on Will's bed, and licked his face, then sniffed at his ears, almost just as Hannibal had. Will made a face at his dog, and gently pressed his face away.

"Not you, too."

Hannibal returned, and crossed to Will's bed, then offered a hand with which to help him up. "Nearly ready, or rather, it will be by the time you're upstairs," Hannibal promised.

Will took Hannibal's offered, gentlemanly hand, and got to his feet, letting the blanket and sheet drop off of him, already sweating through his other clothes.

"Thanks..."

"Of course," Hannibal said, and helped Will up the stairs, dismayed by his state.

"Have you been experiencing headaches? I could not help but notice two empty bottles of aspirin in the bin upstairs," Hannibal murmured, and all but lifted Will onto the last stair, then walked him toward the bathroom and the sound of water.

"Yeah. Constantly." Will had nights like this, and usually he just slept it off, and he was fine the next day.

"Nice of you to stay and take care of me. Lucky you were here..." he said, apprehensively.

"There are those who believe one makes one's own luck," Hannibal said, tactfully, and helped Will sit on the edge of the tub, then shut off the water, and tested it with his hand.

"Perfect, cool, but hardly  _ cold _ although it may feel very cool to your heated skin," Hannibal said.

Will stuck his hand in, and then looked at Hannibal. He contemplated just getting in with his shirt and boxers on, but that might be pointless when it came down to it.

He then reasoned Hannibal was a doctor, he's seen a lot of people naked. Will might as well have been when he was operated on. He pulled his shirt off, wincing at the pain that went through his shoulder, and slid out of his boxers.

Hannibal watched Will remove his shirt, and then busied himself folding a towel as Will slid his boxers off.

"Are you able to slide in, unassisted?" he asked, as he watched his hands fold, and re-fold the towel.

"I got it," Will said, in the water now, and was grateful Hannibal busied himself with something to do. The water felt blissful, and he he almost swore he saw steam coming up off his skin and the water from how hot he was.

Hannibal nodded, and kept his hands occupied, then pulled the shower curtain half way closed to give Will some privacy, but still allowed Hannibal to see Will's chest and head.

"Better?"

"Hotter than I thought I was," Will murmured, head back against the tub, the porcelain was just as cool against his neck. He gave a little sigh, eyes closed.

"It is common for those with fevers to be unaware of just how elevated their body temperature is," Hannibal said, and looked over Will's features when his eyes were closed."Wetting your hair will help."

Will slid down the tub and dunked himself under, longer than needed to be honest, but his head felt much cooler for it. He came back to the surface, and wiped water and curls from his eyes.

"That should help evaporate some of the heat," Hannibal said, sympathetically. "The medication you'll need has to be administered via iv."

Will blinked water for his eyes and all but glared at Hannibal. This had suddenly gotten very bad, very quickly. "That's awfully convenient."

"Antibiotics can only be taken orally up to a certain strength, or they will cause complications." Hannibal tilted his head at Will. "Are you implying I  _ wanted  _ you to develop a resistance? I would have preferred you stay in the hospital."

Will merely hummed, his head aching to the point he thought it might just explode. "So, it's a little bit of... 'this is what you get' then?" He didn't know what he was accusing the doctor of, there was no way he'd be able to induce something like this so quickly.

Will was paranoid.

"Will, I think perhaps your fever is beginning to compromise your rationality," Hannibal said, sympathetically, and refilled Will's water, then brought it to him. "And I am beginning to wonder if I should not take you in for an urgent MRI."

Will snorted, though he was almost sure Hannibal was right. He opened his eyes to see the water being handed to him, and took it, hands slippery and shaking. He looked at Hannibal, and for a moment, he saw a wendigo, and his eyes went wide, and then it was gone.

"I think I'm hallucinating."

"Why do you say that?" Hannibal asked, and examined Will's eyes, which were fixed on him, startled.

"You keep turning into a mythical monster," Will  murmured, his eyes unfocused and refocused each time Hannibal changed, back and forth, his vision blurred.

"I believe an MRI is definitely in order, in that case. One moment," Hannibal said and left the room, then came back a few minutes later, with a robe for Will.

"I will drive you myself, I've arranged for a specialist to meet us there."

Will was crawling out of the tub, no longer worried over his appearance as he was starting to feel panicked and dizzy. He let Hannibal helped him into the robe. "These sorts of things happen often with stab wounds, Doctor Lecter?"

"No," Hannibal said, and pulled Will closer as he wrapped the robe around him and tied it around his waist. "I believe this is something else entirely."

Will looked up at Hannibal, wet hair sticking to the sides of his face, but drying quickly from his fever.  "Else?"

"Encephalitis," Hannibal said, and dried Will's hair with a towel, briefly, then smoothed it back and considered his features. "Inflammation of the brain, I would suspect yours is caused by an auto-immune response."

"You smelled me. You got that from  _ smelling _ me?" Will asked, breathing a little harder, and gripped the doctor's arms, shaking.

Hannibal hesitated, then picked Will up, easily, and carried him out of the room, down the stairs.

"Yes. I could smell a fevered sweetness about you, very particular, characteristic of severe, long-term inflammation."

Will’s grip tightened on Hannibal's shirt as he was picked up, much lighter than he looked, and found that protesting would do him no good anyway. "You are so... strange..."

"I will admit," Hannibal said as he carried Will outside, to the car, and opened the passenger door to set Will inside. "I am more than likely even more strange than you could suspect," Hannibal murmured, with some fondness as he did Will's seatbelt up.

Will watched as Hannibal did up the seatbelt and got into the car, his vision blurring in and out, seeing things more and more as it felt like his brain was being lit on  _ fire _ . "Why... is that?"

Hannibal stared at Will, close up, and smiled, softly. "I would hate to spoil the surprise," he murmured, and closed Will's door, then got in the other side and started the car, driving them back to the hospital.

Will chewed on those words for a while as they drove, in and out of consciousness, until he finally just passed out, head against the window, effectively fogging it up with his heat.

Hannibal drove Will directly to the emergency entrance, and supported Will with one arm as he opened the door.

"Careful," Hannibal murmured, as he caught Will, and moved him, then moved him into a wheelchair.

Half asleep, he barely had footing, and the next thing he knew he was being wheeled through emergency, again. Everything throbbed, even his shoulder now, did too.

"Where are we?" he asked, a little confused for a second.

"The hospital," Hannibal said, and turned the corner with Will. "Headed to your MRI, where an old colleague of mine is waiting."

"It's so hot in here," Will groaned, dripping sweat again. He had half a mind to strip, but then realized he was in only a robe.

"I'll give you something to control your fever as soon as your scan is finished," Hannibal promised.

He wheeled Will into the MRI lab where they were met with a friendly looking doctor.

"Dr. Lecter, hello. I see, my goodness..." he said, looking at Will.

"Yes, this is the patient I told you about," Hannibal said, and helped Will out of the wheelchair, and laid him down on the board.

Will laid, growing tired and confused quickly, and held his hands over the robe to keep it closed. "This won't take long?"

"No, not long at all," Hannibal assured Will, and made sure Will was covered.

"Just lie still, won't take a moment," he said, and squeezed Will's hand, supportively.

Will let his eyes close as he was pushed into the tube, bright in there and  _ loud _ . He tried to zone it out, flashes of nightmares and hallucinations... He started to shake, trying to keep himself as still as possible.

The machine moved around Will, turning and groaning as it took a scan of his brain while Hannibal and the other physician spoke in the control room.

After a moment, a warm, dry hand brushed Will's ankle, and the bed retracted to reveal Hannibal looking down at Will.

"We have all we need, it is exactly as I feared," he sighed. The other doctor was staring at a screen, shaking his head like he could  _ not _ believe it.

"It is... that." Will blinked up at Hannibal and sat up once he could, reaching out for Hannibal's shoulder to steady him.

"What now? Back into a hospital bed?" He looked around,and then at Hannibal. "My dogs..."

"Encephalitis," Hannibal nodded, and pulled Will back into his wheelchair, carefully, then looked at him with a sigh.

"This is a  _ very _ serious disorder, Mr. Graham-" Hannibal's colleague said, with a compassionate look.

"You're extremely lucky Dr. Lecter caught it, this is a one-in-a-million catch. We wouldn't have seen it on a normal scan."

Will let his gaze go up over Hannibal behind him as he was wheeled out, blinking as he turned into the creature again, and swallowed.

"Could I have died?"

"Yes, you could have died," the neurologist sighed, and shook his head at Will as Hannibal stepped out of the room to get what Will needed.

"If not from the condition itself, from dehydration, from heart failure, or you could have gone into a coma and never recovered. I don't know  _ how _ he did it, but he said he smelled it on you..."

"I guess I should be happy he came over then," Will murmured, hands in his lap, sweat dripping down the side of his face.

"You should count yourself a very, very lucky man," the neurologist said with a little smile, and straightened when Hannibal stepped in with an IV, and a white cart of medication and equipment.

"It seems the ER cannot spare a nurse, I will have to administer the medication myself," Hannibal said, and donned a pair of gloves before he sat with Will, and started to work.

"May I see your hand, please?"

Will handed Hannibal his hand, watching him carefully, or as carefully as he could manage.

"You're not even on duty..."

Hannibal took Will’s hand, and rested it on the top of the white cart like a table as he tied a tourniquet and searched for a vein in his dehydrated hand.

"I am not about to make you wait," Hannibal murmured, then cleaned Will's skin with a swab and slipped the needle under his skin, managing to do so almost painlessly.

"There we are."

Will flinched. He was not that fond of needles, but right now anything that helped him feel less  _ crazy _ was a good idea to him.

"Will you check on my dogs..."

"I will certainly check on them," Hannibal nodded, as he attached the iv line to the cannula, and began to run saline into Will's body, then shook his head at his new friend.

"They are always your very first priority?"

Will nodded, the cool saline felt  _ good _ , and he relaxed a little bit as his head lolled back.

"Yeah. They need me."

Hannibal sighed, and frowned as he measured out some medication from the vial, then injected it into Will's line."This will bring your fever down, and the pain of your headache should lessen..."

"Thank God..." Will whispered, as the pounding had been obnoxious, and it was only growing worse.

"It should work quickly," Hannibal assured him, and dimmed the lights in the room before he gave Will something else. "Is that better? I imagine your eyes are over-sensitive to light at the moment."

"What... what are you giving me?" Will asked, just not remembering to ask, too tired to care though, honestly.

"Steroids," Hannibal replied, calmly.  "Your immune system has mistaken your own brain as it’s enemy, it is attacking you by mistake. The steroids will halt its attack, and permit you a reprieve."

"Oh...' the brunet sighed out, feeling dizzy and exhausted, he felt his body sag against the chair. "Makes sense."

"I have requested immunoglobulin from the transfusion medicine department, and the facilities for a dialysis of sort, something to remove the autoantibodies from your system," Hannibal said, gently, and crouched so that he was at Will's eye level. "You have had quite a day, Will."

Will looked at Hannibal, and the hallucinations seemed to have stopped, all he saw was him, someone that had come to his rescue. Saved him. He held his hands in his lap, clenched together.

"Has it been a day already?"

Hannibal looked a little worn when he smiled, and nodded, then showed Will the date on the screen of his phone. "It has been two since I arrived at your place."

Will looked alarmed, and sobered a little. "You were at my house for two days?"

That meant he  _ slept _ for the better part of a day and half, at least.

"You were asleep for twenty hours," Hannibal confirmed, and stood when a tech delivered the immunoglobulin Hannibal requested. He signed for it, and showed Will.

"This is the immunoglobulin, not a medication, per se, but it will help your body correct the effects of the attack it has waged against itself."

"Are you helping me because I'm your patient? You feel obligated to save your reputation?" Will remembered how it felt to be around Hannibal in the ER, and how he more than  _ loved _ seeing the pain of others.

Why not enjoy Will's too?

Hannibal hung the iv bag of immunoglobulin, and arranged the long line from the bag so that it fed into Will's iv instead of the saline for a period of time. "I find the world a more interesting place with you in it."

"You don't even know me."

Will didn't understand where this was coming from, and reading Lecter was like trying to read braille for the first time as a blind person; everything was there, but he was having a hard time putting it together.

"I would like to have the chance," Hannibal admitted, and adjusted the flow on Will's IV drip with a steady hand, then touched his forehead. "Already much improved, I think."

Will leaned his head back at the touch, enjoying the feel of something cooler than himself touching his skin. "If you're trying to prove yourself, I guess you did okay."

The light caught the curves of Will's face, and glinted off of the sweat on his skin that slowly began to look healthier again, not quite so desperately feverish.

Hannibal chuckled at the very, very limited praise from Will, an unexpected sound. "Thank goodness. I was beginning to worry I had failed to make an impression."

"I don't think you take failure well, doctor," Will murmured, giving him a look through his half closed eyes, mostly resting them, but watching Hannibal.

Hannibal cupped Will's cheek with one hand, and looked back at Will with an odd expression. It seemed the man was almost surprised by his own actions, bewildered by them for the first time in his life. "You know me better than you think you do."

"It's a gift, sometimes." Will smiled a little, the touch was caring and nurturing in some ways, and he was oddly comforted by it, even if his instinct was telling him not to be.

"And a curse at others," Hannibal said, as though he was finishing Will's thought for him.

He pulled his palm from Will's cheek, slowly, and his phone rang.

"One moment, excuse me," he apologized, then stood to take the call, speaking softly.

After hanging up, he returned to Will. "Your room is ready upstairs, I should hope that this time you will not discharge yourself prematurely so long as I keep my promise to tend to your pack?"

Will nodded, tiredly, blinking his bright, large blue eyes up at Hannibal. "I promise. I'll leave when you tell me I can."

"Thank you, Will," Hannibal whispered, and moved around Will's chair, gracefully, to push him out of the room, and into an elevator. "If you would like, I will investigate home care options. You would, of course, need assistance and supervision."

"How long are we talking?" Will asked, a little more clear headed. He didn't want to be held up for  _ weeks _ .

"Recovery will be measured in weeks, rather than days. I would say a minimum of three weeks for a complete recovery," Hannibal told Will, frankly, and pushed his chair into the hallway when the elevator doors opened.

"The pack will grow wary," Will sighed, no longer seeming like he was so settled in staying here at all. But if he got sicker, he could be down longer, or dead.

Hannibal touched Will's uninjured shoulder in a soothing manner, and turned to wheel him into a private room, then shut the door behind them.

"The pack will be well cared for," Hannibal promised, and set the brakes on the chair before he helped Will out of his seat, and into bed.

Will allowed himself to be helped, and crawled into the bed. "Three weeks is a long time. They'll think I've abandoned them."

"Perhaps once you are stable again, we can arrange for you to receive care at home," Hannibal said, and covered Will with a light sheet, reluctant to leave him.

"That would be best advised, thank you," Will said, quietly, snuggled into his robe and the sheet, he was finally not as warm as he had been, and color was back in his cheeks that wasn't from fever.

Hannibal took a pitcher of ice water on the table and poured some for Will, into a small glass, then offered it to him. "I will do all I can to arrange it, here. You are terribly dehydrated."

Will sat up and took the water, considering Hannibal for a moment as he drank. "This home care, I don't suppose it would be you coming to help?"

Hannibal looked up, and tilted his head like he was considering it. "Would you  _ want _ that?"

"I know you now, it'd be better than  _ other _ people," Will said, obviously not fond of strangers, or getting to know new people.

Hannibal pulled a chair closer, and sat in it, one long leg crossed gracefully over the other. "High praise indeed," he scoffed, but pulled out his expensive phone to check his schedule.

"I  _ do _ have weeks of holidays that staffing keeps reminding me I must use before the end of the year."

"I would hate for you to use your vacation just to take care of me," Will sighed, chewing on a piece of ice from his water.

Hannibal folded the elegant leather case of his phone closed, and stored it in his suit jacket pocket. "Much like you, I have very few social obligations."

Will chuckled, and finished his water. "So you'd rather use your vacation taking care of irritable patient who’s known to give you the slip?"

"I have been known to enjoy a challenge," Hannibal said, with a little chuckle, and watched Will drink. "You're  _ certain _ you would want someone as ... what was it you called me? Pretentious? You'd want me around?"

"It's you or some old nurse that probably smells like mothballs. Those are always the ones they send for home visits," Will grumbled, wrinkling up his nose.

"How on Earth would you know that?" Hannibal asked, with an amused expression. His eyes lingered on the way Will's nose scrunched, and what it did to the line of his lips.

"Had my appendix out once. My dad opted to hire this old nurse instead of leaving me at the hospital," Will explained, in a grumble.

"Because he didn't want to leave you there, or because he did not want to come to the hospital so often?" Hannibal asked, with a knowing tone.

"I don't know. I was eight. He just...didn't." Will never asked, and when he did, his father shouldered him off, gave no answers.

"It is a terrible thing, for a child to feel like an inconvenience," Hannibal said. "I will do my very best not to smell of mothballs."

"You don't. You smell like spices and cognac," Will said, and held his cup out for some more water, he was parched.

Hannibal felt a rare warmth spread across his cheekbones, just under his eyes, and he refilled Will's glass.

"I am surprised you noticed."

"Hard not to. It overwhelms the scent of dogs in my house," Will said with a little smile, and sipped more water, feeling better by the minute.

"Is that a compliment?" Hannibal asked, with a subtle smirk, and a hopeful tilt of his head.

A shrug, and Will ducked his head a little.

"Sure..."

"Thank you, in that case," Hannibal replied, as he memorized the way Will ducked his head, in case he wanted to remember that for later.

"When, I'm, uh, feeling better, I'll repay you with dinner. I hope you like gumbo," Will said with a little smile which he hid behind the cup.

"I have never had gumbo," Hannibal said, with a shine to his eyes that wasn't there before. "Something from New Orleans, I trust? I cannot wait to try it."

"Yeah. It is. Poor man's food," Will chuckled and set his cup down, empty, but he didn't need more yet. "It's good though."

"Many gourmet dishes began as very common dishes. No one decided to prepare snails for their good looks," Hannibal quipped.

Another nose wrinkle; "I wouldn't know. I haven't had them, and I don't really want to."

"As long as they are carefully prepared, they can be delicious," Hannibal said with a little smile. "Lobster was once considered an inhumane punishment when it was given to prisoners for meals."

"That's too bad," Will laughed. "You like crayfish?"

Hannibal seemed to have refined taste, but open to other types of food, so Will thought it best to ask as he mentally prepared a meal in his head that was  _ weeks _ away.

"I must admit, I have  _ never _ had the opportunity to try crayfish," Hannibal said with real light in his eyes. "But I am always ready to try new things. Should you prepare them, I will gladly try them."

"They're sort of ugly to look at," Will explained, breathing deeply as his head started to clear a little more. "Not a lot of meat per one, but you can get a bunch for a good price."

"Rather like shrimp, in that regard," Hannibal said with an appreciative nod. "I have heard shrimp etouffe, a cajun dish, is very good."

"You can make that with crayfish too," Will said with a smile, unable to believe he was talking  _ food _ in a hospital with his  _ surgeon _ .

"That sounds very intriguing," Hannibal said, sincerely. "As fond as I am of French and Italian cuisine, it can become repetitive, if one does not branch out."

"We'll help you change it up then," Will offered, and looked at his current state, and sighed. "When I'm better."

"Of course, when you're better," Hannibal agreed with a grateful nod. "It would be rude of me to expect you to play host in your state."

"I did pass out for a day on you..." Will said, almost embarrassed about that. "Sorry."

"Not at all, you needed the rest, and I was uninvited," Hannibal said, graciously.

"You cleaned my house," Will said, a little bit of unsettledness entering his chest as he remembered that.

"I had time to pass," Hannibal said with a soft laugh."I meant it in no way as a statement on your housekeeping."

"Hard to keep up with so many dogs. I'd be vacuuming all the time. No time for fishing..." Will laughed nervously, not that he had much to hide, he was an ordinary person.

"I noticed your fishing lures, quite fascinating. Do you create them yourself?" Hannibal asked, with genuine interest.

"Yeah. It's part of the craft. I enjoy what I catch more when I'm able to give myself to it," Will explained. "Do you fish?"

"I have not fished since I was a very, very young boy. I attempted to catch small fish with my hands in a pond," Hannibal said, as though that were an embarrassing secret. "I was very curious about them. Other than that, no, I'm afraid I have never learned."

"Did your wolf catch fish?" Will asked, maybe finding Hannibal a little... tiny bit interesting.

"He did enjoy snapping his teeth at them," Hannibal nodded, with a far away look in his eyes. "But I never witnessed him eating one, I only ever saw him eat what I gave him."

"He was reliant on you to feed him. Thus, him being a  _ pet _ ," Will offered, his brain making better jumps now that it wasn't on fire.

"I  _ did _ manage to keep him very, very well fed," Hannibal said with a hint of a proud smile, then looked at Will. "I often wondered if it injured his pride to be my friend."

"If he kept coming back, I doubt it. Free food." Will considered for a moment, and then canted his head at Hannibal."Where are you from again?"

"Lithuania," Hannibal said. "A beautiful, but seldom celebrated country."

"Sounds familiar. Small?" Will reached for his cup as he sunk under the covers a little more.

"Rather," Hannibal nodded, and refilled Will's cup for him. "Lost among many other Eastern European countries. It has been many, many years since I've seen it."

"You don't go back?"

That was curious, Hannibal seemed like a man who talked of the place because he loved it, and yet…

"It is my past, I prefer to focus on my present," he said, tactfully, but there was a moment of clear pain in his eyes when he handed Will his cup of ice water. It was nothing anyone else ever picked up on, but Will ... Will was proving to be anything but ordinary.

Will couldn't disagree with that, and he took the water back and drank some of it, one hand on his chest. "Hopefully the present leaves you with better memories, then."

Hannibal looked down for a moment, then back up at Will.

"It has," he said, and pulled a white dog hair from the sleeve of his jacket, examining it under the light.

"Poptart."

Will chuckled; "She is small, but she does shed like crazy this time of years. Sorry."

Seeing Hannibal with dog hair on him was like seeing someone mark up a national landmark.

"I doubt she marked me intentionally, no matter how determined she is to befriend me," Hannibal said, as he considered the little hair.

"Where in the world did you find her?"

"She was a rescue. Shelter was going to put her down, so I took her instead. She's the best, just a little.. strange to look at." Will gestured his good shoulder. "She likes you. That's good from her, she was an abused dog."

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise, and thought about it, now even more bewildered by her attachment to him. "That is quite surprising to hear, I would expect an abused dog to be quite timid."

"She usually is," Will sighed, giving Hannibal a knowing look. "But she likes you for some reason." It was a low jab, a tease.

"God forbid you should find that reason," Hannibal teased back, with a smile.

"I don't think God has anything to do with it," Will murmured, quietly, and watched Hannibal with new interest.

"You do not believe in God, Will?" Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head.

"I believe in something more related to science fiction, I think," Will said, not sure where his belief stayed, or stemmed. "My father said he was devout Christian, but he never went. Liked to blame god on a lot of things."

"I would defend God, but I am not certain your father was wrong to blame him," Hannibal sighed.

"I don't blame God for the way my father drank, or the way he he didn't have enough money sometimes to buy food, but had enough for smokes..." Will shrugged, looking at his hands.

"He sounds selfish," Hannibal sighed. "Is he still living?"

"Yeah, but I moved out here to get away from him ." Will fiddled with the sheet over him.

"I lost my own parents when I was very young."

"Sorry to hear that," Will said, fumbling with the bed to sit him a little more up right.

"It was unfortunate," Hannibal said, quietly, but didn't seem affected by it, at least not now.

"Wait, I can help," he said, and pressed a button at the side of the bed to raise it.

Thanks," Will said, wanting to be just a bit more up right now that his dizziness had subsided.

"Better?" Hannibal asked softly, their faces closer now.

"Yes, thank you..." Will whispered, letting his gaze flit to Hannibal's, a little less guarded like this, and maybe that was the medication.

"You look much less distressed now, tell me, are you still seeing things you suspect are not real?" Hannibal asked, courteously.

Will watched Hannibal's mouth as he talked, and swallowed as he asked a question. He shook his head. "I... I don't think so."

"What was it you saw? Do you recall?" Hannibal asked, sitting at the edge of Will's bed now.

Will was reluctant to say, mostly embarrassed by what he had seen Lecter as. "Uh... I saw you as a Wendigo."

"Wendigo?" Hannibal echoed, and arched his eyebrow aristocratically, over sharp, dark eyes that crackled with intrigue at the term.

"Yes. Fevers make me see weird things." Will dropped his eyes from Hannibal's, sure that he has perhaps insulted him.

"There are many differing accounts as to the appearance of a Wendigo," Hannibal said, not offended at all, merely interested.

"You were all black, antlers... cold eyes..." It was hard to explain, but it did seem sort of fitting for the doctor sitting next to him.

Sitting  _ very _ close.

"Antlers?" Hannibal smiled at that, pleased. "That sounds ... strangely elegant. You have quite the imagination."

"That's what I've been told," Will said, as though it weren't anything new. Hannibal had been warned he had an overactive imagination.

"Did the version of myself that you saw in the grip of your fever frighten you?" the surgeon asked, as his eyes lingered over Will's features.

"It was disturbing more than anything. I couldn't figure out why it was you," Will said, honestly.

"You perceived me as an intruder, someone who was getting closer than you liked," Hannibal suggested.

"So I thought you into a mythical cannibalistic creature?" Will laughed, dryly, shaking his head. He considered Hannibal, and canted his head up at him. "Are you? Trying to get closer than I'd like?"

"If  _ you _ thought of me as someone who was trying to become close to you, closer than you allowed most people to get, that may be interpreted by your subconscious as a threat to your identity, which carries the implication of being  _ devoured _ ," Hannibal said, calmly.

Will shivered, and looked out the window instead, and then back at Hannibal after a moment, a hard glare.

"You didn't answer me. Are you trying to get closer than I'd like?"

"It does seem that way," Hannibal said, softly, and looked up at Will's eyes. "So, I would have to reply that yes, I likely am. I would like your friendship, Will. That is not something I think I have ever said before."

"You don't have friends?" Will asked, though he was one to talk, he had no friends, just colleagues who hadn't even bothered to call and see if he was okay.

Not friends.

"I have acquaintances, and workplace associates," Hannibal said, seriously. "No one I would consider a  _ friend _ , however. The impulse to make one does not often arise."

"Why me?" Will asked, his sea colored eyes watching Lecter’s expression, trying to  _ read _ him, openly.

Hannibal looked back, his dark gaze mirroring Will's own. "I feel we have the potential to understand one another."

"I have the potential to understand anyone," Will quipped back, and canted his head, eyes narrowed. "What do you understand about me?"

"That your dreams scare you, the fantasies that flit through your mind appal your decency," Hannibal said. "You've had nightmares for years, the dogs are the only beings you feel you can afford honest interaction with, everyone else comes with a  _ price _ , and you are always the one who pays."

Will was shocked into silence, swallowing hard over a lump in his throat.

"You got all that over two days?" Will  asked, jaw tight. Maybe he was more transparent than he thought himself to be.

"You really are in the wrong profession."

Hannibal looked down with a nearly shy smile, then back up at Will.

"I have considered psychiatry before, perhaps you are right..." he mused, and watched Will react, before adding a question:

"You're angry, Will?"

"I've worked very hard on keeping my forts," Will said, casually, without eye contact.

"And you resent the ease with which I find their doors?" Hannibal noted, then poured Will another glass of water.

"It feels like you're burning them down," Will admitted.

"I have no wish to destroy them, only to be admitted beyond their walls," Hannibal said, softly.

It was hard, because Will wanted desperately to push and push and push. Hannibal was going to watch his dogs though, and help care for him at home...

Maybe a friend wouldn't be so terrible.

His brows furrowed sadly, almost puppy like, and he nodded.

Hannibal watched Will's endearing expression, and smiled a little. "I may not be as predictable as your dogs, but I promise I am a better cook."

Will offered a smile at that, and looked at his hands in his lap. "I haven't had friends in a long time. Mostly just keep to myself. I don't know if I'd be good at it."

"I could say precisely the same," Hannibal assured Will, with a very soft smile, one that showed more in his eyes than on his defined lips.

"Let us simply accept that we are both beginners, then."

Will gave a nod, and leaned his head back against the pillow, effectively gazing up at Hannibal. "As long as we both know that."

"I think it is abundantly clear, to the both of us, yes," Hannibal said, as he stared back.

Will wanted to push and yet pull Hannibal closer all at once. No one had seen him quite like this before, and it was strange to feel that pull to someone. "Are... are you staying all night?"

"Would you prefer I did?" Hannibal asked, honestly, and watched Will battle his urge to keep his walls up, and the urge to have someone  _ with _ him.

"I don't want to keep you from a night at home alone with a glass of wine and opera," Will whispered, knowingly.

"Is that how you imagine me?" Hannibal asked, amused at Will's partial accuracy. Yes, many of his nights were spent just like that, quite happily.

Some were spent even more happily, in a plastic suit covered with blood spatter.

"I think that's how you wind down after... a long evening, at the ... gym?" Will looked confused for a moment, not sure if he caught that right.

"I prefer to swim," Hannibal said with a small smile. "I find the silence under the water very soothing."

He couldn't help but straighten his shoulders, pleased that Will noticed he took very good care of his physique.

"You look like a swimmer," Will said, admiring Hannibal's shoulders openly for a moment, and then looked down. "Or a dancer."

"I enjoy dancing," Hannibal said with a soft chuckle.

"Only the sort with a partner, however. But thank you, I take that as a compliment. I still fit my work out in this evening by carrying you up and down stairs, of course."

Will flushed, hard, and looked down at his hands. "Sorry you had to."

"I was happy I could help," Hannibal said, with honesty that surprised himself. He had been happy to carry Will around, and it was not just the usual rush of power that he felt when he could outmuscle or out-think someone.

It ran almost alarmingly deep.

"I'd like to say I am usually better concerning my health, but that would be... a lie," Will offered, waving his hand.

"Has anything like this ever occurred before?" Hannibal asked, and leaned back a little in his chair, comfortably.

Hannibal had moved back, leaving Will cooler at his side, and the fever diminishing, it was a bit cold, so he pulled his robe around him tighter.

"No. Not at all."

Hannibal put his own long, heavy wool coat over Will's legs, and sat down again. "There. It's much heavier a blanket than anything the hospital can afford."

"That's too bad. Too busy paying their doctors?" Will teased, though he didn't expect an answer there.

Hannibal chuckled at the barb, and poured Will another cup of ice water. "Particularly those terrible surgeons."

"Awful surgeons. Don't even know what they are doing," Will teased.

"Butchers, all of them..." Hannibal purred, with a gleam in his eyes at the way Will teased him.

"Lucky I came out unscathed. Must have had a good one," Will sighed, and smiled over at Hannibal.

"Yes, you have an excellent butcher," Hannibal said with a smile back, a little dazzled by Will's beauty when he smiled like that.

The young man snorted, shaking his head. "Butcher. that's terrible."

"It's terrible, and honest," Hannibal said, laughing with Will. "I believe only you would ever be able to see the truth of it, and not the romance of the image surgeons carry about. Many of our methods are crude at best."

"You tear open and patch up human bodies. It's not beautiful, or romantic, it's... domestic, in a way. We could all be so lucky to be cared for as such at our worst."

"I am a caretaker of the living," Hannibal murmured, amused at the concept. "Perhaps more of a mechanic than anything."

"For me. Though I do think you'd be better suited for therapy," Will said, a little bit of red light his cheeks.

Hannibal considered it, quite seriously, and looked at his hands where they rested on his crossed legs, a posture that made them seem impossibly long.

"I do have a strong background in psychology, purely out of interest's sake..."

"Not that you aren't a good doctor, " Will said, watching the ways Hannibal moved. He wondered when he had started to find men attractive.

"Would you trust me to be your therapist?" Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head that made his sweep of ashy hair fall almost all to one side.

Will chuckled, almost nervously. "I've never been good with therapy in general."

"You've been in therapy before?" Hannibal asked, curious at the way Will worded the reply.

"Many doctors are very curious about my ability," Will answered, quietly. "I never get along with any of them."

"I don't imagine you did," Hannibal agreed. "No one enjoys the feeling of being dissected, in any capacity."

"They hoped it would help, less nightmares as a kid, all that. Never did though." Will sighed.

"You just fed off of what you could feel radiating from them instead: their judgement, their disgust, their short-sightedness ..." Hannibal guessed.

Will nodded, shortly. "Yes. It's terrible. Never found one who didn't want to exploit me."

"They were all far more concerned with what their paper on you would make for them, and not your welfare?" Hannibal asked. "And surgeons have a reputation for coldness..."

"Yes, exactly." Will let out a huffed breath just thinking about all the times he'd tried, and finally given up.

"I assure you, publishing a paper on you is the furthest thing from my mind.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) as usual, not beta'd and edited by us the best we could do!  
> 2) a few liberties taken on recovery time and what's possible and all that.  
> 3) Like what you see? Follow us on [Tumblr!"](http://constructfairytales.tumblr.com)

Will woke a week in, feeling better, but it was probably all the medication keeping him that way. He was still slightly feverish, according to one of the nurses that came in when Hannibal left to work or check on his dogs. Will was grateful for that.

He got up that evening to use the bathroom, dragging his IV pole with him, and then decided to explore a bit, restless.

He left, eventually, for the newborn ward, and watched them, and their tiny fingers, their outward, easy emotions that were like warm water running over Will's mind. Then, he walked slowly past other wards, mostly just keeping to himself, and back to his room, exhausted.

Hannibal had spotted Will while he was gazing at the babies, and watched him for a moment, then followed him back to the room. The dapper surgeon waited a moment before he walked in, holding a pair leather gloves that complimented his long, heavy, wool coat.  "Good morning, Will. I see you've been up and about," he said with a fond expression in his eyes and nodded at the unplugged cord to his iv pump.

Will smiled at the sight of Hannibal, warm and inviting.  "Yeah, a little restless. Is that... okay?"

"Of course," Hannibal said, and handed Will a small box from a bakery. "If you'd like, we can have a walk later, too. Ambulating within limits will help you heal." He nodded at the little box that smelled like something familiar to Will. "I took the liberty of bringing you something to lift your spirits."

Will sat down on the edge of the bed, maneuvering the IV pole with him, and took the box. "They smell...." he bit his lip as he opened it up, "like home."

"I found a cafe, tucked away in the city, that makes beignets," Hannibal said, with a soft smile, and took a seat in a chair near the bed after Will sat down, watching him open the box.

Will’s smile grew bigger at the powdery, sugary mess in the box with the greasy pastries. Will took one out and ate it slowly, and offered one to Hannibal. Will's smile was far too charming to refuse, and Hannibal took one of the southern pastries with a nod, and tried it, managing to do so without covering himself with powdered sugar.

"Very good," he said, after swallowing the bite. "I've never tried one, but I know they are a New Orleans delicacy."

"Yes. They are." Will ate his, powder all over his face, and down the front of his robe.

Hannibal finished his own, neatly, and reached forward to thumb a little sugar off of Will's upper lip for him. "They are as delicious as they are messy."

Will licked his lip, sucking the rest of the sugar off that Hannibal didn't thumb off and turned a crimson color that went up his ears. "They're not a rich folk’s food..."

"No, but not all expensive food is good, and not all good food is expensive. The finest cuisines in the world grew from dire necessity," Hannibal said, as he admired Will's blush. He passed his phone to Will. "If you will tap the play button, I filmed the dogs for you this morning, they are quite eager to tell you something."

Will gave Hannibal a look, and then pressed the play button as he wiped sugar from the corner of his mouth. "They are rowdy..."

The dogs were outside and running around, then came to Hannibal's feet when he whistled and sat down.

"Good, good," Hannibal said on the video. "Now  _ speak _ ."

They all barked once or twice, Poptart barked and gave a little jump in the air, and the video stopped.

Will laughed, and played it again, two more times, and then handed it back to Hannibal.

"They've grown to love you."

"They've grown to listen to me," Hannibal smiled, and took his phone. "But I will admit that Poptart is reluctant to let me leave without being picked up for a moment or two."

Will smiled at that, glad that Poptart had started to come around for someone other than himself. Not that Will had many people over.

Okay, he _ never _ had anyone over. “She'll want to go home with you at some point."

"She would find it very lonely there," Hannibal laughed, and looked at Will. "Speaking of going home, I reviewed your lab results last night. I believe with the right supportive care, we can take you home today."

"I'm not in danger of relapse or anything?" Will asked, not that he wanted to stay, he just didn't want to come  _ back _ .

"As long as you continue treatment, which you will-- no, that is not something you need to be concerned about in the immediate future. It  _ is _ possible to relapse after you are finished treatment, but rare."

Will gave a nod, thinking it over. "I'd like to go home. I'd be more comfortable there."

"Wonderful, I will sign you out, and have your medication and supplies gathered; if you are feeling up to it, we will make the trip," he said, reaching for Will's chart at the end of the bed.

Will nodded, and tugged on the IV. "This isn't coming home with us like this is it?"

"Not like that, no. I will have to remove this iv and begin a new one for you at home," Hannibal said, and stood to deliver the paperwork to the nurse's station.

Will realized he said 'home' like it was  _ their _ home. He ducked his head a little and slipped his feet back into the slippers Hannibal brought him.

"Are you okay with making the trip out there? It's a long ways to go back and forth..."

"I don't mind, Will," Hannibal said, and looked back at Will for a moment before he walked the papers out, and returned. "Let me remove this for you," he murmured, and leaned down close to pull the heart monitor sticker from Will's chest under his robe, then stopped his iv and unhooked it.

"Okay," Will sigh, not going to argue it with Hannibal, letting him unhook him, finally free of what felt like a prison. Even if he had to have reconnected at home.

Hannibal held Will's hand in his own as he laid a bandage over the small, bleeding spot, and smoothed it with his warm fingers. "Are you experiencing any vertigo? Your hallucinations have stopped, I should hope?"

"No vertigo right now. No wendingos either," Will said, slightly amused.

Hannibal smiled at that and looked up at an orderly who stopped in the door with a box in his arms and an iv pump.

"Thank you, Ferdinand, if you would be so kind as to place those near my car, it's parked at the ambulatory entrance."

Hannibal offered his hand to Will, to help him up. "Without the aid of an iv pole, I offer myself to lean on, if you require it."

"Thanks," Will said, taking Hannibal's hand as he slid off the bed, legs tired and wobbly from walking around.

Hannibal offered his sturdy arm, in a gentlemanly fashion, and put his long coat around Will's shoulders, then walked him out into the hallway.

"Here is his medication, Dr. Lecter," a young nurse said, and handed Hannibal a small bag.

"Thank you, Alice," he said in return.

Alice gave Will a big smile. "You guys are just so sweet together, feel better soon!" she said, and hurried off.

Will flushed, heat rising through him, and he just ducked his head as they walked, his hand on Hannibal's arm. "Very presumptuous," he muttered.

Hannibal just chuckled and shook his head as they rounded the corner, slowly. "I hope you are not offended by her assumption, I can correct her if you'd like..."

Will shook his head, it wasn't worth it honestly. Usually he'd say something, but he was still too tired to banter and snipe at people. "It's fine..."

"I'll mention something later," Hannibal promised, as he helped Will into the passenger seat of his car, which was warm, and comfortable. The passenger seat was reclined, as though Hannibal anticipated bringing Will home and knew he might nap on the way.

Hannibal closed the door and loaded the trunk with the equipment the orderly left for them, then climbed in and started it up. "Are you warm enough?"

Will got in and buckled up easily, snuggled in with the coat and robe, he was more than warm enough. He gave Hannibal a lazy smile, and nod. "Mhm. Seat warmers?"

"Yes. Let me know if it's too warm," Hannibal said, proudly, and started to drive back to Wolf Trap. "Sleep if you must, I don't mind," Hannibal said, and turned down the classical music.

Will shrugged his shoulders and snuggled in, tired now, as he was so often lately, and felt himself start to drift off to the classical music, and smell of Hannibal all around him. Hannibal watched Will fall asleep, still cocooned in his coat, and drove the long, now familiar path back to Wolf Trap. He stopped the car at Will's house, smoothly, and watched Will sleep for a moment longer with the engine off. Light rain began to patter down on the roof of the car. "Will?"

Will woke, not suddenly, but slowly, and opened his eyes, blinking the sleep from them. "Mm?" he hummed, realizing he was home.

"We are in Wolf Trap," Hannibal announced.  Not for the first time, he was deeply, deeply puzzled by his need to coddle this young man, to protect and keep him close.

"Oh,” Will murmured, unbuckled his seatbelt, and opened his door. He scrunched up his nose at the rain. Buster started to bark in the house when he noticed the car, and the rest of the dogs joined in.

"They've sounded the alarm, one moment," Hannibal sighed and came around to the passenger door to help Will stand up.

Will chuckled, and used one arm around Hannibal's shoulders to hoist himself to his feet. While in the hospital his wound healed nicely, still ugly and pink, but not as bad. "Thanks..." Hannibal helped Will to the door and opened it to reveal the pack of  _ very _ happy dogs, who surged forward to lick at Will and nuzzle his legs.

"They are  _ mildly _ happy," Hannibal chuckled.

Will chuckled, and reached his hand down to pet them all as they stepped inside, and had the door shut before Buster could make a beeline out. Will didn't want Hannibal to have to chase after him. "Just a little."

Hannibal calmed them as much as he could, and helped Will to the couch. Winston jumped up and licked WIll's face, immediately, wagging quickly as he nudged his chest for good measure.

"Hey, Winston," Will said, petting the dog who was fairly new to his pack. "Missed you guys too."

"I will return in a moment," Hannibal said, and tried to step outside, but Poptart blocked the door, with a little whimper up at the surgeon. "I see," he said, and bent down gracefully to pick up the ugly little dog for a pet, which made her wag. She put her head on his chest and looked at Will, almost gloating.

Will laughed out loud at that, and shooed Hannibal off with her. "Just take her with you."

"We will be back shortly," Hannibal promised, and carried the furry gargoyle in his arm to the car, then returned carrying the iv pole in one hand, and a box in his other arm.  Poptart trotted after him, carrying the little bag of medication in her mouth, which amused Hannibal. He let her follow and closed the door then spoke to her, hand in his coat pocket.

"Nurse Poptart, can you give the patient his medication? Give it to Will?" Hannibal pointed to Will, and Poptart dropped the bag at Will's feet. "Ah, good girl," he murmured and tossed her a little treat, which she gobbled up, very proud of herself. Hannibal picked up the medication, looking a tiny bit embarrassed that Will had seen that. "We may have been working on some commands."

"I never thought you a dog person, honestly," Will said, watching Hannibal with a smile, becoming a tad smitten where he had no idea he  _ could _ be smitten.

"Neither did I," Hannibal said, softly, and removed his coat, then hung it, and covered Will with a folded blanket that he unfurled dramatically. "But I suppose her charm has grown on me. I hope you do not mind, I may have taken her to the groomer's for a trim yesterday morning." Hannibal turned away, and set to lighting a fire in the fireplace.

Will looked at Poptart, who looked exactly the same, maybe a little more  _ clean _ . She was becoming  _ Hannibal's _ dog, and the thought was oddly silly, because she matched nothing about Hannibal. "I'm sure she hated it."

"She was not fond of the experience," Hannibal agreed, and smiled a little, which made the fine lines at the corner of his eyes jump to life. "She was shaking, but allowed them to groom her so long as I was holding her," he said, quietly. "It was very humbling to see an  _ animal _ demonstrate such trust."

"Only to some, you and me," Will pointed out, and shrugged off the robe and snuggled under the blanket instead.

"Which made it even more humbling," Hannibal said, and stood once the fire was crackling.

The dog groomer had been  _ rude _ . Hannibal had taken Poptart to have her groomed in an effort to make her more presentable for Will’s return home, but the groomers impatience with the little dog's fear, and her declaration that there was nothing she could do with an  _ ugly _ dog led to the groomer’s  _ timely _ demise.

"We did stop for treats," Hannibal mused, thinking of the groomer he had followed home, surprised in her garage, and then stuffed in his trunk, yesterday.

"Stopped for treats?" Will asked, not sure what that meant, or if there was a treat store for dogs he didn't know about. "Is that like stopping for ice cream?"

"We took a trip to my butcher, who was very sympathetic when he heard about her trying day," Hannibal said, looking at Poptart, who was at his side again, looking up at him adoringly. He could not help but picture his "butcher" as the Wendigo that Will had hallucinated, blade in hand. In truth, Hannibal had made the treats in Will's kitchen from the groomer, and a few other things.

"How very nice of him." Will ran a hand through his greasy hair and made a face. "Think I should shower before you set me up again?"

"That might be wise. Would you prefer a shower or a bath?" Hannibal asked, and extended his hand to Will to help him up.

The house, especially the kitchen was  _ fastidiously _ clean.

Will noticed the cleanliness easily, but didn't say anything. Hannibal was doing him a favor, after all. "Can't wash my hair well in the bath..."

"Very well, shower it is," Hannibal agreed, and offered his arm again, this time without either of them being covered in a heavy coat, which only made the gesture more intimate. Will was in his pajamas, what he wore at the hospital, and took Hannibal's arm with his hand, reassuring himself that he was just a nice friend, and a good doctor.

"Feels like I haven't showered in a week."

"You haven't," Hannibal said, without disgust. Will was very, very sick, after all.  He helped Will up the stairs, letting him lean as much as he had to on the way there. "You will shout if you feel faint or dizzy, won't you?"

Will gave a little nod once they were up the stairs, a bit out of breath, tired already. "Yeah, yeah, I will..."

Hannibal let Will rest at the top of the stairs, and watched him. "Take a moment, breathe slowly."

"This is normal?" Will asked, starting to walk to the bathroom. The sooner he got this done, the better.

"You have been very, very ill, a period of weakness is normal, yes," Hannibal said, and followed Will to the bathroom.

Winston caught up, and followed Will in, reluctant to be far from him for long. Will smiled at his dog, and leaned against Hannibal, starting to wonder if the venture was going to be too much for him. "Maybe I should just do this tomorrow..."

"I can remain in the room with my back turned, if you would like," Hannibal offered, as he stepped in with Will. "Or you can take a bath and I will assist with your hair."

Will chewed the inside of his lip, considering. His bath was very small, the room even smaller, but Hannibal had already likely seen him naked anyway. He was a doctor, nothing else.

Right?

Will nodded, putting the plug in. "Bath it is."

Hannibal started the water and tested the temperature, then looked at the tub with a little smile. "It is a shame I could not somehow bring my bathtub here. It is much more comfortable, I'm sure. Would you like a glass of water?"

Will nodded, and unbuttoned his flannel pajama shirt, slowly, easier to get this off than a t-shirt had been. "Please."

"I will be back shortly," Hannibal promised, and headed out of the room. Winston wagged at Will, and sniffed the bathtub filling with water, then looked at Will again with shiny eyes.

"Not for you, Winston," Will laughed, and pushed his pajamas and boxers off and got into the water, which was very warm and welcoming. He lathered up some soap and washed while Hannibal was gone.

After a soft knock at the door, Hannibal stepped in, and set a glass of ice water and a plate that looked like it held a scone on the edge of Will's tub. "You look much more relaxed," he noted, and removed his suit jacket, showing off a vest that was fitted tightly against his enviable frame.

Will canted his head up to look at Hannibal, a flushed smile on his face, cleaner now, and hair wet, but not washed. He took the water first and drank it, parched. "I feel a little better. More human.. _. ish _ ."

"That's good to hear," Hannibal murmured, and rolled his sleeves up to show off very toned forearms, then poured some shampoo into his palms and knelt by the bath.He began to massage Will's scalp, slowly and thoroughly.

Will moved so his back was to Hannibal, long legs up the side of the tub a bit, toned from the running he did regularly. "Did you have an assistant with you downstairs?"

"Of course, she has since retired to her bed near the fire," Hannibal chuckled, and admired Will's calves and ankles as he shampooed his hair slowly, taking his time. His fingers worked the grit out of Will's strands and relaxed his scalp.

Will let his head drop back, and he sighed contently to have someone else do this for him with his thick curls. "That feels good."

"Many people carry a lot of tension in the muscles just underlying their scalp," Hannibal said, and gazed at Will's face when he dropped his head back.  "I imagine all the headaches resulted in stress on these muscles from the tension of your pain."

Will gave a little nod, humming with how good it felt. "I like your hands," he heard himself say out loud, not just to himself, as he had been for days now.

Hannibal smiled at that, and worked his hands to the back of Will's neck to massage the muscles there before he dipped Will's head into the water, carefully. He enjoyed the moment of watching Will  _ trust _ him with the weight of his head, and brushed his curls clean, then helped him back up. "Thank you, they are my living."

The water was murky with soap, shampoo, and dirt, of which there was too much for Will's liking that had come off, but he couldn't help that. Will chuckled; "Try not to injure them, or you'll be going into psychiatry sooner than you'd want."

"I am  _ always _ very careful with them," Hannibal said, and looked around. "Where do you keep your conditioner?"

"I don't have any," Will said, head canted back to look at Hannibal with big, doe blue eyes.

Hannibal was speechless for a moment, because of the blueness of Will's eyes. They looked like every  _ possible _ shade of blue spliced together: azure, lapis, sky, ocean ... all of them at once, and Hannibal felt his heart twist in his chest as it did when he heard or saw something  _ exquisite _ and unforgettable. "Oh."

"I have coconut oil downstairs though," he mentioned, as if that might make up for the lack of real hair products.

"That might do," Hannibal said, recovering, and dried his hands on the way out. "Do you require anything else?" Will moved to take the scone and shook his head, wet hair in his eyes, and he smiled up at Hannibal. He almost said 'just you', but decided to keep that to himself.

"I will be right back," Hannibal promised, and lowered his eyes, doing his best not to stare in an unseemly way. Will was actually so  _ beautiful _ that he almost felt wrong for staring at him at all. There was something classically angelic about his good looks that Hannibal had only encountered in statues. His heart was actually  _ hammering _ when he descended down the stairs to the kitchen, and returned with a mixture of oils and herbs in a bowl.

"That looks like a lot more than just the oil," Will quipped as he watched Hannibal enter again, the scone was long gone.

"Olive oil, coconut oil, rosemary and mint," Hannibal explained as he knelt again, and began to massage the mixture into Will's hair. "Warmed."

"Tingly," Will said, letting his head loll into Hannibal's hands, achy and tired, but much better after being handled by him.

"Your hair will be even more angelic looking now," Hannibal murmured, in an admiring tone, and kept massaging Will's scalp as the oil soaked in. His fingers were warm and slick and worked to the back of Will's shoulders.

Will leaned forward a little as Hannibal went to his shoulders, hunched a bit as the muscles tried to relax under touch he'd never had before. "Mmm.."

"That's alright? I'm sure it feels good after so much sitting in bed," Hannibal said, and worked his thumbs into the muscle beside Will's spine, able to picture the tissue under his skin as he rubbed oil and herbs over it.

"Mhm," Will all but groaned, every muscle in him tense for so, so long. He didn't like people to touch him often, so this was... nice.

Hannibal felt the groan resonate in him, awaking a different sort of hunger than he usually felt for people. He worked the oil closer to Will's arms, then into the muscles there, looming over him from behind like this.

Will was relaxed and pliant in Hannibal's grasp, hands limp and loose in his lap, effectively covering himself, though he wasn't trying to at this point.

Hannibal's eyes roved down Will's chest, his stomach, to his hips and legs, admiring him with longing that he almost  _ enjoyed _ the pain of. He found Will desirable, of course, but he was not crude about it. He dipped Will's head down, into the water again, and worked the oil out of his curls while supporting his head with one hand.

Will gasped a little when he came back up, and gave Hannibal a sly look as he flipped wet curls out of his face.

Hannibal returned the look, and helped Will up."Are you alright?" he asked, and tucked a long curl behind Will's ear for him.

Will nodded, ready to get out now anyway. The nice. almost sensual massage, was over. "Can you hand me a towel?"

"Yes, of course," Hannibal said, and handed Will a soft, folded towel that felt like it had been laundered with softener. Hannibal offered his hand, but averted his eyes, graciously.

Will was grateful for that, as he was starting to get the feeling that Hannibal had other intentions about him than just friendship. He wrapped himself in it, and used Hannibal's hand to help him out of the bath. He then bent and pulled the plug out.

Hannibal kept his gaze on the wall, no matter how tempted he was to look, and passed Will a separate towel for his hair. "Are you feeling thoroughly human now?"

"Very much," Will said, letting the towel drag across his hips and lay there, tucked around, and then dried his hair with the other one.

Hannibal's eyes flickered to Will for a moment, finding him more mesmerizing the longer he looked. He knew, however, he had to exercise caution, being too obvious about his attraction could easily scare Will off, he could not afford clumsiness.

"Splendid. Let's get you re-attached to your iv." Hannibal offered his arm, which was firm under the dress shirt that covered it.

Will took his arm, dropping the hair towel to the floor, for now, and leaned in against Hannibal, languid and warm from the bath and massage. "Good idea."

Will smelled like mint and rosemary now, and himself, not the  _ burn _ of encephalitis Hannibal smelled earlier. It was decidedly delightful.  He escorted Will down the hall and down the stairs again, followed by Winston. "Bed or couch?"

"Bed," Will sighed, grabbing a pair of boxers on his way, so he could change out of a... towel.

Hannibal let Will grab the boxers and guided him to his bed, then eased him down onto it. "I'll allow you to change while I arrange what we need."

Will gave a curt nod and slid into the boxers while the towel was on and then dropped it all together and pulled a t-shirt over his head, slowly, careful of his shoulder. Hannibal wheeled the iv pole closer to Will, then pulled a chair close to the bed, and took Will's hand when his shirt was on to start an iv. "I think we'll use your right this time, and give your left a break."

"Okay." Will gave his hand over, the other one was a little bruised, so maybe that  _ was _ a good idea. "Are you staying?"

"If you'd like, yes," Hannibal said, as he focused on Will's hand, and swabbed his skin well. "If not, I can return in the morning."

"Seems a waste of gas," Will reasoned, watching Hannibal work. He was graceful, even for a doctor.

Hannibal slipped the needle under Will's skin, so quickly that it barely hurt, then made sure the lumen was threaded and disengaged the metal from the softer plastic tubing with an expert press of his fingers."It is a long drive, and I'd rather be close if you need anything," Hannibal reasoned. He taped the iv in place, and looked up at Will's eyes. "I keep an overnight bag in my car, do you mind if I bring it in?"

"I don't mind," Will said, taking his hand back and putting it in his lap with the other. He didn't have an extra bed. He chewed his lip.

"I can take the couch," Hannibal offered, gallantly, and started the iv running again, more something to add the drugs to than anything else.

"It's not comfortable," Will said, lightly, a warning, and also an offer.

"Perhaps one of the upstairs bedrooms, then? Although I might not hear you call," Hannibal said, fretting as he looked up the stairs. "The floor?"

"I don't have other beds," Will said, and offered a shoulder toward the other side of the queen bed. "I'll try not to sweat on you."

Hannibal smiled at the offer and ran a hand over the pillow. "I am nearly certain I don't snore," he said, with warmth in his voice.

Will laughed, and shook his head, and curled up on his side, facing Hannibal. "I believe you."

Hannibal looked at Will, and felt a warm, subtle smile steal over his features as he did. Will looked better here, more comfortable in the pokey little bed that Hannibal knew better than Will was aware of. He was rapidly becoming  _ obsessed _ with the younger man.

He toed off his expensive shoes, and laid on his side, facing Will, as though testing the size of the bed. "This will do, I think."

Will laughed. "It's all I have. I hope it will do." He laid down, turning on his side to look at Hannibal.

"I don't mind at all," Hannibal said, graciously. Winston jumped on the bed, then Poptart, but they stayed at the foot of it, wagging.

"You sleep in your suits?" Will asked, trying not to laugh at the fact that Hannibal  _ might _ .

"No, I have something more appropriate in the car, which I should retrieve," Hannibal said, and got up, smoothly, then slipped his feet back into his shoes.

Will nodded and got under the covers, and snuggled in, toes against Winston's warm body. "Okay."

Hannibal watched as Poptart jumped down, and followed him out to his car, like a little, white shadow. He returned soon, with a fashionable bag over his arm, and Poptart in the other arm. "I am never certain for how long I will be at the hospital when I am on call, so I keep what I need in my trunk. I assure you, I do not stay a night or two with many people."

"Am I just lucky?" Will asked, biting his lip.

Hannibal chuckled, and blushed in a subtle manner across his high cheekbones. "I suppose that all depends, some might consider you cursed."

"Cursed?" Will asked, curling up under the blanket as he waited for Hannibal, all intentions of snuggling up to him. If the IV permitted.

"As you've said many times, I am a very, very strange doctor," Hannibal said, with a soft smile. "I will return in a moment," he assured Will, and carried the bag into the bathroom to change, but left the door open a crack so that he could hear Will if he spoke.

Will didn't look, not wanting to be rude and waited for him to return, but Poptart went into the bathroom after Hannibal, instead.

Hannibal changed and brushed his teeth, then chuckled when he noticed Poptart sneaking in. "Afraid I will escape out of the window?" Hannibal asked the little dog, and went about his night time routine.

"She likes mint, so she might try to get your toothbrush," Will called, and snuggled his pillow.

"I will take the necessary precautions," Hannibal said, and walked out in a set of black silk pajamas with a soft robe tied over the front. He looked just as elegant in them as he did in a suit and tie during the day.

"You fit all that in your overnight bag?" Will asked, half asleep already, he was sure that was the medication making him drowsy.

"I did," Hannibal smiled as he climbed into bed, and laid on his side, facing Will with his head on the pillow he had actually slept on for a few nights, already. He loved how the sheets and pillows smelled of him.

Will rolled, carefully, onto his side, and off his bad shoulder, and faced Hannibal. He'd never shared a bed with anyone but his father before.

Hannibal's eyes seemed darker than usual, but warmer, and he gazed at Will, in the same bed, with a little smile. It was intimate, and comfortable to share with him in such a manner. "Do you think this is strange?"

"Sleeping together?" Will asked, and blushed at how that sounded. "In.. my bed. Yes, a little."

"This is hardly standard doctor and patient procedure," Hannibal admitted. He had to /work/ to stop himself from touching the pretty flush on Will's cheek.

"I could take the floor if you think this is too... much." Will watched Hannibal, sure that he would say no to that, of course.

"No," Hannibal insisted. "I think I much prefer this arrangement," he stated, honestly. Will was only a foot away, and Hannibal imagined they could hear one another's hearts on some level.

"Okay then." Will leaned up and turned the light out, closing his eyes, he could smell Hannibal, and found it was very comforting.  Darkness settled over the room, and Hannibal's eyes adjusted almost instantly, able to see Will with almost perfect clarity.

"It is blissfully quiet out here, I can see why you prefer it."

"You can hear everything when it happens," Will whispered, as if the lights being out were a reason to whisper. The dogs settled around them, and Poptart jumped to sleep by Hannibal. She settled in behind Hannibal's long legs, and he used it as an excuse to bend his legs a little, shifting closer to Will.

"Does she usually sleep with you?"

"No, she usually sleeps with Winston," Will yawned, and just like that Winston was on the bed behind Will, so he had to scoot toward Hannibal a little more.

Hannibal smiled in the dark, relishing how close they were now, almost breathing on each other. "There is safety in numbers, perhaps she feels safer with us."

"After her ordeal yesterday, I'm sure she does." Will felt suddenly hot the closer they got, and he wondered if he was feverish again... or…

"That is a touching thought, it has been a long time since I have felt myself considered a source of anyone's safety, a refuge..." Hannibal whispered back.

Will felt it too, not just his dog. Hannibal felt like safety and home. He was afraid to almost admit that though. "Nice to be needed."

"It is a very, very nice feeling indeed," Hannibal agreed with a soft sigh, and listened to Will breathe. "I could become used to it, quite happily."

"Sorry, Winston's crowding me," Will said, as the dog pushed him a little closer to Hannibal, enough that his head was touching his shoulder.

"That's alright, he's a very large dog," Hannibal said, and moved a little so that Will's head rested more firmly against him.  "Is that alright? Your neck isn't sore?"

"It's better now that you eased the tension," Will said, taking the guided offer and slid his head against Hannibal's shoulder, to his chest.

There was still  _ plenty _ of tension, at least for Hannibal. He wrapped his arm around Will's waist and back, to support him, and eased their bodies into  _ snuggling _ together. "There..." he whispered, and waited to see what Will's reaction would be.

Will gave a soft snort; "I think this goes beyond misconduct with a patient," he whispered, but he didn't move, mostly because he was  _ comfortable _ , and he felt  _ safe _ in Hannibal's arms.

"If you would prefer, you are welcome to fire me," Hannibal whispered. "I will stay and take care of you as your friend."

Will tipped his head up, able to breathe against Hannibal's neck, he could smell his spiciness from here, and suddenly wanted to taste Hannibal. "My friend...."

Hannibal sighed and arched his neck back a little when Will breathed against it, which felt  _ blissful _ . "If that's what you would like me to be."

"I thought we already were," Will said,, putting his hand on Hannibal's chest, to feel his heartbeat.

"There are many sorts of friend," Hannibal whispered, and closed his eyes at the touch to his chest. "Many levels of intimacy."

"Mn," Will hummed, and tucked his nose against Hannibal's neck. "Which do we have?"

"I would say we are quickly falling into a state of intense intimacy from which we may never recover," Hannibal whispered, with a sort of a happy purr in his voice.

"Intense intimacy," Will repeated, suddenly wondering if this was some weird dream he was having from the fever again.

"Intense, and beautiful," Hannibal said, with a nudge of his jaw over Will's head, almost a protective, sweet gesture.

"I've never been attracted to a man before," Will admitted, awkwardly throwing that out there, but he had to be honest here.

"Does it worry you? Are you uncomfortable with your attraction?" Hannibal asked, softly. He felt  _ relief _ that Will admitted he was attracted, and deeply interested.

"No. But I'm not very...I won't be skilled," Will said, sure that Hannibal had been with a man before, he seemed the type, actually.

"That is not important to me," Hannibal said, honestly, and touched Will's cheek, finally, after having gazed at it for so long. "Skill comes with practice."

In the dark, his eyes had adjusted now, and Will looked up as Hannibal touched his cheek, into his dark eyes. He swallowed. "Right. Practice."

Hannibal stroked his fingertips over the arch of Will's cheekbone.

"I have never been as  _ intensely _ attracted to a man before," Hannibal confessed, in a whisper.

They really did understand each other. Will had understood Hannibal the moment he met him, and that Hannibal understood him back, really had been the nail in the coffin. He'd tried to run from it, but Hannibal planted himself perfectly inside Will's fort. "I Find that hard to believe."

"Why?" Hannibal asked, softly, and wound one of Will's soft curls around his fingers as they all but melted into one another.

"I'm... bitter, crass, sarcastic." Will huffed a discrediting sort of laugh. "I'm hardly at your level of standards."

"You are breathtaking, honest, brilliant ..." Hannibal countered, and brushed his fine fingers through Will's hair. "You exceed my standards."

Will tilted his head as the hand went through his curls, loving the way Hannibal's hands felt, the things they could do. He imagined they could do  _ other _ things very well. "You'll learn to be disappointed soon enough."

"That is a risk we both take," Hannibal whispered, and let his fingers trail down the back of Will's neck.

"You've yet to disappoint. If anything, you... are perfect." Will leaned in more and curled his arm around Hannibal's waist.

Hannibal let Will hold him, and took a deep breath at the touch. "You do not yet know  _ all _ of me..."

"Do have hidden compartments?" Will asked, listening to Hannibal's steady heart, content to lie like this for now.

Hannibal chuckled warmly at that, and kissed Will's forehead for his charm. "Perhaps I do, in my own way. Your own first impression of me was not  _ entirely _ incorrect."

"Your enjoyment of everyone's pain?" Will canted his head up a little, feeling cherished, a little like he ought to run, as something dug deep at the back of his mind.

"I am not a sadist," Hannibal clarified. "But I take pleasure in giving people what they deserve," he said, mysteriously, and yet, held Will even more tenderly than before.

"Oh..."  Will blinked, and then let his eyes close all together, feeling the way Hannibal breathed under his arm. "What do they deserve?"

"To be treated like the animals they emulate," Hannibal whispered, sure that he was close to scaring Will off, forever.

"Is that why you're so nice to me? Do I remind you of a dog?" Will asked, not asking questions as to how Hannibal gave people this.

"No, not at all. You are  _ better _ than the average person, in my mind. I do not treat the rude and the wicked like dogs, I think I treat dogs rather well ..." Hannibal said with a look down at Poptart, who was sleeping behind his knee.

"You do, that is true. So only the rude and wicked then?" Will was starting to put together a profile of Hannibal from his words, a person who did not wear this side of himself out, and Will was getting to see under the veil.

"Yes, only the rude. I consider rudeness the root of all true wickedness. Overstepping one's boundaries, laying claim to that which they have no right to, taking the life of the decent without provocation ... it is all the highest form of rudeness, which I cannot abide."

"If only it were easy to rid the world of those people," Will said, stifling a yawn against Hannibal's chest.

"It is not as difficult as one might think," Hannibal whispered, and petted Will's soft hair as he fell asleep against Hannibal. "But that is not important at the moment."

"It's not?" Will was half asleep now, drifting into dreaming. He hoped Hannibal didn't mind him squirming much, he had a feeling he was going to dream hard tonight.

"No, we can discuss it when you wake, if you wish," Hannibal whispered, and rubbed Will's back with one hand and a deep sigh at the feeling of his smooth, pale skin.

"Sorry," Will said, yawning again, and drifted off, snuggled into Hannibal's side, warm.

"Don't apologize, Will. You need your rest. I will be here when you wake, I promise," Hannibal said, against Will's soft, fragrant curls. "And I always keep my promises."

"Night, Hannibal," the young cop murmured one last time, and then sagged against Hannibal as he drifted into a dream filled sleep, complete with the wendigo.

"Good night, Will," Hannibal whispered back, and held Will for an hour before he too decided to sleep.

Will woke some time later, far into the depths of morning, the sun was out and he was tangled up in Hannibal, arms and legs thrown all over him, face firmly pressed against his neck.

Hannibal's eyes were still closed, and he was holding Will in his arms, enjoying the embrace they shared while asleep.

Will stretched his toes a little and curled in closer, warm there. Hannibal looked like he was still asleep, so he didn't stop himself from watching him, taking in his features and openly /gawking/ at his handsomeness.

Hannibal's arms tightened around Will when he moved closer, and he opened his dark eyes, smoothly. "Good morning, Will," he whispered. "How did you sleep?"

Not so asleep...

"Fine," Will murmured, the dogs were off the bed now, all on the floor, and they had no reason to stay like this, but Will found no reason to move either.

"Did I snore?" Hannibal asked with a charming smile, not letting Will out of his arms for a moment.

"No. You're very elegant when you sleep," Will said, pushing back a yawn, and laid his head down on Hannibal's chest again.

"You were observing me?" Hannibal asked with a little smile, certainly not opposed to the idea at  _ all _ .

"Just a little." Will rubbed his hand up against Hannibal's chest from his stomach, feeling the hard lines of muscle there that he'd not seen, but could vividly imagine now.

"Then I will confess to having done the same," Hannibal whispered back, and brushed a curl out of Will's eyes, utterly  _ fixated _ on him.

"Of course you did," Will whispered into Hannibal's chest, and then turned his head to look at him. Hannibal reminded him of a predator.

"It would have been a terrible waste not to," Hannibal whispered, and rubbed one hand over the back of Will's shoulders, adoringly.

It was wonderful to be this  _ close _ to him, with unrushed intimacy.

Will grinned, sleepily, and snuggled in closer, one arm around and one leg around Hannibal. "It's been awhile since I've shared a bed with someone."

"How long?" Hannibal asked, curiously, with a soft smile, obviously not about to judge Will for his answer.

"At least five years," Will sighed, thinking back to college. It wasn't eventful.

"That is surprising, I'm sure you've had plenty of offers for company," Hannibal murmured. He had never seen Will in full uniform, but he could well imagine how appealing he would be.

Will shook his head. "A lot of people know I'm... unstable. They stay away."

"Instability is not necessarily a fault," Hannibal said, and touched Will's cheek again, admiring him. "The most brilliant stars in the galaxy are very unstable, it makes them powerful."

“Because they're the first to explode and burn out," Will said, quietly, very much aware that he had that capacity in him.

"Nothing is created, nothing is destroyed," Hannibal replied. "There is only transformation."

Will flitted his eyes up to look at Hannibal, watching him. "You seem certain."

"I am very certain," Hannibal murmured. "I studied physics and astronomy very enthusiastically as a young man."

"What aren't you good at?" Will asked, starting to feel as if he were walking among Gods here.

"There are a great many things I've never tried, and I'm sure I would not be any good at them, initially. Fishing, for one," Hannibal said, and ghosted his fingertips down the back of Will's neck.

Will shivered at the touch, curling into Hannibal instinctively. "I could teach you."

"I would like that very much," Hannibal said, and nuzzled Will. "There is much we could teach each other."

A flush crept along Will’s cheeks at the insinuation, the nuzzle burning against his flesh wonderfully. "I'm sure there is."

"If you were interested, of course," Hannibal whispered. He  _ reveled _ in the tension between them. It was torturous, but decadent.

"I like learning," Will whispered, wetting his bottom lip gently.

Hannibal stared at Will's glistening lower lip, then touched it with the pad of his thumb, and stared into his eyes. "I am certain you will be a very apt pupil."

Will had a good mind to bite Hannibal's thumb where he touched his lip, but reeled himself and his instincts in. He couldn't just  _ do _ that. "We'll see."

Hannibal watched the impulse bloom and fade in Will's eyes. Perhaps next time.

"We shall," Hannibal agreed. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," Will said, getting out of bed to use the bathroom. "Excuse me."

He came back a few minutes later, teeth brushed and feeling a little better about being  _ flirty _ .

When Will came out, Hannibal was in the kitchen, and what smelled like bacon was frying in a pan. "Coffee?"

"Please," Will said, watching Hannibal as he wandered over to the breakfast bar with his IV pole, still so exhausted.

Hannibal already had a chair pulled out for Will, ready for him to have a seat and watch as Hannibal cooked what looked like omelettes for them both. "Still fatigued?"

"Little bit," Will said, quietly, and watched Hannibal cook. "I see you stocked my fridge."

"I took the liberty, I hope you don't mind," Hannibal said, and chopped a few more vegetables on a cutting board, as though he were doing surgery, then added them to the pan, and began to make batter for crepes. "Recovery is nearly impossible without good food to sustain it."

"No, of course. I don't mind at all. I usually buy when I need to," Will said, leaning over to watch Hannibal, intrigued by his sets of skills.

"What do you typically eat for breakfast?" Hannibal asked, and poured the batter for the first crepe in the pan, then began to slice cheese, very thinly.

"Coffee, sometimes eggs," the brunet answered, sipping on some coffee. "I usually don't have a lot of time, I live too far out and have to get to work quick."

"That's a pity, have you ever considered relocating closer to the city?" Hannibal asked, and flipped the crepe in the pan with a neat motion of his hand on the pan handle.

"No,"  the younger man blurted out, letting his defenses raise at the thought; he liked it out here for a  _ reason _ .

Hannibal's eyebrows raised, and he looked up, innocently. His ashy hair was combed now, but less slick than it usually was, which left him looking far more approachable than before. "Merely curious, Will, I can see you are very attached to the wilderness here."

Will reclined in on himself, and over his coffee, sipping it and then letting it warm his face in puffs of steam. "The city noise makes me edgy."

"I doubt the dogs would enjoy the noise, either. Wolf Trap is a beautiful place, I did not mean to suggest you needed to leave it behind," Hannibal said, comfortingly, and rolled the omelette into the first crepe, with thin layers of fragrant cheese.

He arranged some fruit on the plate, and presented it to Will. "A crepe filled with brie, egg, spinach, sauteed apple and bacon."

"Thanks," Will murmured and took the plate, though protective now, and he cut into the eggs cautiously. "Smells good."

"I considered including salmon, but that is much better freshly caught," Hannibal said, with a little smile, and worked on his own meal now.

"It is, but not around here." Will ate, with gusto, more hungry than he realized, having only had the pastries yesterday.

Hannibal watched the way Will almost curled around his plate, like a wolf with his hunted meal, and smiled to himself. "What do you usually catch close to home?" Hannibal asked and arranged his own plate.

"Trout mostly," he said, and finished his food quickly, and sucked it down with his coffee.

"Trout meuniere can be an incredible dish, I'd love to prepare it for you, someday," Hannibal said, and sat down with his own breakfast, settling into the cozy domesticity between them at the moment.

Will eyed Hannibal carefully. He had some frozen in his cellar, from this past spring. "Someday."

"Would you like another crepe?" Hannibal offered, after sipping his own coffee, but he suspected Will's stomach had shrunk in the course of his illness.

Will shook his head; "No, anymore and I won't be able to keep it down."

"Likely wise," Hannibal nodded, and finished his own plate, then took the plates to the sink to rinse them off. "Are you feeling well enough for a short walk with the dogs?"

Will nodded, sure that it would do him good to have fresh air. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

"Not too long," Hannibal warned, as he cleaned everything, very efficiently, and washed his hands, then moved to offer Will his arm so that he could climb down, off of the stool.

Will slipped into his boots, since the terrain outside was often too soft of slippers. He pulled on a robe, and took Hannibal's arm, feeling a bit better after eating.

Hannibal locked Will's iv and detached it, so they didn't have to take the pole outside, then donned his long jacket and put his own scarf around Will's neck before he slid his feet into his shoes. "Are leashes necessary?"

"No, they'll be okay. They listen pretty well."

They walked out the door, the dogs rushing past to go frolic and do their business, Winston staying close to Will's side.

"He is the most attached to you," Hannibal said, as they walked out, slowly, Will on his arm.

"We have an understanding," Will said, smiling down at Winston. "I found him on a cold winter night. Took him in, fed him."

"The loyalty of a stray," Hannibal said with a smile at Winston, who stayed by Will's side like a guard dog. "He has very unusual markings, what sort of dog is he?"

"Oh, he's just mutt. A mix of a lot of breeds," he said, giving Winston a pet on the head as they walked.

Hannibal handed Will a treat from his pocket to give to Winston, and then tossed one to Poptart when he noticed her staying at his side. "And Poptart, the same?"

"Yeah, all my dogs are mutts. No one wants a mutt, they want a purebred." Will shrugged, and leaned in against Hannibal as they walked.

Hannibal smiled a little as Will leaned against him, and watched the other dogs chase each other and play in the autumn grass. "Even purebreds have their problems, I'm certain."

"Every dog is different." Will head rested on Hannibal's shoulder, still quite weak from being so ill, but was glad to have the company to help.

Hannibal stopped walking so that Will could rest a moment, and wrapped one arm around Will's back to support him. "Did you have dogs as a child?"

"A few. Only 'friends' I had." Will shrugged a little, and leaned his shoulder under Hannibal's, his head resting just so in the curve close to his neck.

"Our childhoods were similar in that respect," Hannibal agreed, and stole a brief inhale of Will's hair when his head was close enough.

"I suppose so. I only had my dad and the dogs." It was sad to think about, but it was what it was, Will couldn't change any of that.

"I think we might have liked each other," Hannibal mused.

"You'd've been a young man when I was just a ten year old boy..."

"That's true," Hannibal laughed, and looked at Will. "Likely already in medical school."

It was weird to think about, but with Will being in his early thirties it wasn't has hard to imagine being with an older person.

Older  _ man _ .

He slipped his arm around Hannibal's waist, leaning in a little more. Hannibal smiled at that, quite happy to be held close to Will. "I think if we had met, and we were both children, we might have got on quite well," Hannibal said. "Both intelligent, unusual, quiet..."

Will chuckled at that. "Yes, probably." It would have been a strange friendship.

"I did not know many other children, when I met them, I was disappointed by their loud, dull natures,” Hannibal said, and looked over at Will, fondly. "I imagine you felt the same."

"A bit. Mostly just wanted them to stop... feeling so much." Will laughed, because that sounded strange, honestly.

"It must have been overwhelming for you, I cannot imagine what school must have been like," Hannibal said, sympathetically.

"I kept to myself and my studies. People left me alone for the most part." When Will wasn't bullied. He did stand up for himself though... got in trouble a lot, beat up…

"I was fortunate enough to have private tutors," Hannibal said, then chuckled to himself. "But we did have guests for dinner, frequently. Some of their children were terribly rude, and would try to bully me, since I was younger than most of them."

"And what did you do?" Will asked, just standing there, and wrapped his other arm around Hannibal, feeling closer to him like this.

Hannibal chuckled again, and looked at Will's eyes as though he were about to test something with Will, to see how he would react. "One young man in particular had sadistic tendencies. I was seven and he took great pleasure in holding me by the shoulders over a steep, stone stair well, and threatening to drop me. He told me, with  _ glee _ in his eyes that it would snap my spine." Hannibal tilted his head, remembering. "A servant came to bring us to the dinner table, and the young sadist laughed and said we were playing a fun game. They seated us next to one another at the dinner table, so I stabbed him in the thigh with a steak knife during the main course."

Will listened, feeling for Hannibal, and could honestly put himself back into his shoes, how terrifying it might have been, and to see only one option in getting the other boy to understand he wasn't  _ prey _ . "I'm sure you got in trouble, but I'm also sure he never forgot."

Hannibal laughed at the memory, and nodded. "My father was furious, my mother found it deeply amusing."

Will just smiled a bit at that. He would have liked to have met Hannibal's parents, maybe. They sounded a little more like parents than his own. "Did the boy ever bother you again?"

"No, no never again. I don't think he bothered anyone else, either. The knife was very sharp," Hannibal said, and looked at Will. "You are the first person to whom I've told that story in a very long time."

"I feel honored," Will said, quietly, not sure he had many dark secrets he wanted to tell, none that were really important or less incriminating.

"I haven't thought of it for years, to be honest," Hannibal said, and found a rock large enough to serve as a bench, then sat with Will, to give him more rest as the dogs raced around. "Honestly, I cannot say I learned from it."

Will sat and looked at Hannibal, head canted for him to continue. "You freely stab people now?"

"I wouldn't say  _ freely _ ," Hannibal smirked. "I still do not tolerate terrible behaviour."

"You stab only the rude?" Will asked, testing the words on a teasing tongue, should it not actually be something he should be talking about.

Hannibal was... dangerous, Will could feel it.

"I have found taking matters into my one’s own hands is far more satisfying, and far more effective than trusting the authorities to act as a proxy, in such matters," Hannibal said, looking back at Will. "I'm certain with your experience as an officer, you have seen how much evil goes unpunished, even  _ rewarded _ ."

Will gave a little nod, still tucked in under Hannibal's shoulder. He... understood of course, he had intentions himself sometimes, almost choking a boy at school just to get him to stop, so he couldn't  _ FEEL _ him anymore.

It didn't mean it was  _ right _ . "Yeah...."

"I assure you, I am hardly indiscriminate in how I select whom to be stern with," Hannibal said, reasonably. "My actions are well-considered, and reasonable."

"And yet you've chosen the most irritable and rude police officer to court," Will laughed, and then bit his own tongue, sucking it between his teeth.

Hannibal smiled over at Will, amused. "I find you direct and intriguing."

"Most would say that's rude," the brunet pointed out, but made no further attempt to try and keep Hannibal at bay. He'd keep a close watch, but he had a feeling his position as officer was going to become a thing of the past soon.

"I do not find your directness offensive, I suppose that is because I recognize, in it, your defensive nature."

"Oh." Will had been caught, it seemed, where most never were able to. Hannibal  _ saw _ him for what he was. Or, at least partially. "Grow up the way I did, I'd have to be."

"I cannot fault you in the least," Hannibal said, as he looked at Will's profile against the background of trees. "All creatures have a duty toward self-preservation."

"You had yours, I had mine," Will said, knowingly, and turned to look at Hannibal in the sun that was coming up over the river and the tree line.

"We do what we feel we must to survive," Hannibal said, with an understanding smile. "We do what we must to stave off the feeling of being trapped."

Trapped. Will knew that feeling well. "Do you often feel trapped, Doctor Lecter?"

"When I do, I take control of the circumstances," Hannibal said, cryptically. "Do you often feel trapped, Will?"

"Often in my own skin," the brunet murmured, and stood again, too antsy now to keep sitting.

"What traps you?" Hannibal asked, softly.

"Everything. Maybe you don't get that, but... my ability leaves me trapped in my own mind sometimes, stuck there. I feel like someone struggling to get out."

Hannibal listened intently, and nodded that he understood. "Do I make you feel trapped?"

Will let a shudder rip through his body, but he shook his head. "No, you..." he breathed out, shakily, "You interest me." He was going to say scare, but that wasn't true. Hannibal didn't scare him, he had a feeling that whatever Hannibal was capable of, he wouldn't hurt Will.

"I promise, Will, you are never trapped with me. If anything, I would love to encourage your freedom, in every way."

Will knew that wasn't a lie, he had a feeling Hannibal was stroking his fingers over just the right strings to make that play out. He stopped, and turned to Hannibal, stepping into his space, looking up at him, like he was trying to see right past all the veils and suits Hannibal wore around everyone else.

Hannibal looked back at Will, solidly, their eyes connecting for an intense moment. "Are you afraid of me, Will?"

"Should I be?" the younger man asked, wavering a little, swallowing a lump that was starting in his throat. Everything in him told him to  _ run _ , but he hadn't the strength.

"I have no interest in harming you, in any way," Hannibal said, softly, and stood very still, like a large animal trying to let another know he was not going to attack.

Will felt like the blood had run out of his body, and went cold, and pale, and reached to steady himself with one hand on Hannibal's arm.

Hannibal let Will lean on him, and supported him with his other arm again. "When you had a fever, you saw me as a Wendigo... how do you see me now, Will?"

Will gripped with his free hand, touching Hannibal's chest, and his eyes closed, the gold pendulum swinging on it's own accord, backing him out, backing him to the day before, through his house, with the dogs, the groomer...

Will huffed out anxious breaths, eyes opening to look at Hannibal, only to see the wendigo once more. "You're..."

"Very strange," Hannibal confirmed, calmly, and looked at Will, with slightly softer eyes. "Calm yourself, Will. I will not harm you."

Will’s  hands shook as he gripped tighter, and he couldn’t help the breaths that came out quickly, he'd already worked himself into an anxious frenzy.

"Will, Will.." Hannibal said, and put one hand over Will's heart. “I am  _ no _ danger to you. The dogs all have the capacity to turn upon you, and act as a pack of wolves, they have the teeth to rip out your throat ... but do you fear them?"

Oh God, Will was a cop, he should be calling the police, he shouldn’t be this close to a killer...

Will felt the hand ground him, listening to Hannibal's words and shook his head, and then felt himself leaning into be held, so he'd stop shaking all over.

Hannibal held Will in his strong arms, and rubbed Will's back as he cradled him, even rocking the precious man in his arms. "You are as safe with me as you are with your pack of dogs, Will. They and I are both innate hunters, we have the capacity for savagery ... but they and I would never consider  _ you _ prey. Do you understand?"

Will closed his eyes, gasping breath as he calmed, wishing it wasn't Hannibal that was  _ helping _ , but it was. He nodded,knowing this relationship just took a very precarious turn. He knew things he shouldn't know, and didn't want to know.

Damn his abilities. "I... understand."

Hannibal looked at Will, seriously, and took a deep breath before he sighed. "Would you rather I left? I could send you a nurse..."

Will would rather Hannibal where he could see him, know he was around. "That'd be a... very terrible waste of your vacation time."

"It would be unfortunate," Hannibal agreed. "I'd much rather take care of you, here. I would worry," he murmured,  _ honestly _ .

Will pulled back, still shaking but under less duress now, and gazed at Hannibal, able to see he was telling the  _ truth _ . He truly  _ cared _ about him. "Stay."

Hannibal nodded, and the darkness in his eyes warmed. "Thank you, Will. I will endeavor to make certain you do not regret keeping me," he said, with a little smirk.

Will couldn't lie, there was definitely tension between them, the thing that ebbed at him, and made him drawn to Hannibal. He found himself gazing at his lip, those perfect lips. "Keep you?"

"I'm one of your strays, am I not?" Hannibal asked with a little smile. "Eight dogs, and a wendigo."

"You're more like a... stag to me," Will said, touching Hannibal's shoulders, and then up to his head, where the antlers grew on the wendigo.

Hannibal smiled a little at that, and bowed his head forward, against Will's hand. "Are you beginning to hallucinate again?"

"No," Will whispered, watching Hannibal closely. "I'm just starting to see you clearly."

"You are one of the only ones who has," Hannibal said, with some admiration, and stayed close to Will, rather impressed with his bravery.

"You're not afraid of what I could do?" Will asked, quietly, walking back toward the house, the dogs following.

"You mean turn me in?" Hannibal asked, and walked with Will. "Arrest me?  _ Shoot _ me?"

"Any of those," Will said, quietly, wondering how much merit Hannibal gave him.

"And will you? You could do it now, I won't fight, you're certainly in no shape for a fight." Hannibal helped Will up the stairs, and to the door. "I allowed you to see me, Will, because I believe your curiosity is stronger than your sense of duty to the institution that will surely toss you aside now."

Hannibal was right, of course. Will was curious, and he was lonely, and finally someone was seeing him as he saw them.

Will stepped up the door and leaned back against it for a moment, watching Hannibal. He was going to get tossed aside, and the FBI was not  far from him. "You've caught me in a vulnerable time."

Hannibal opened the door for Will, and held it open, gallantly. "I find it is the turbulent periods of my life, full of uncertainty and change that I enjoy the most, in hindsight."

Will walked through, then the dogs, and when Hannibal closed it again, he reached to lock it, just around him. "What is your life now?"

"I believe it is on the verge of something astounding," Hannibal said with a meaningful look at Will. "A welcome breath of spring after a long winter."

Will smiled at that, charmed where he knew he should not be. He was fascinated and smitten. "Astounding. I hope I can live up to that."

"You have already," Hannibal said, and unwound his cashmere scarf from around Will's neck.

"Even should you order me out of your house and away from you forever this very instant ..." Hannibal murmured, staring at Will's features, and the look in his eyes. "I will forever be grateful for the chance to know you, in private life."

Will felt his fingers grasp out for Hannibal's waist, clutching at fabric there as Hannibal gazed at him. "I... I don't want that."

"Neither do I," Hannibal admitted, softly, and wrapped one arm around Will. "You are remarkable."

Will wondered if there was something  _ wrong _ with him to  _ want _ this. No one else ever had, why suddenly did Hannibal? That was pretty straight forward, they were both different, both pushed aside for who they were. Even if Hannibal was a murderer that likely ate people.

Will let his head fall forward and touch Hannibal's shoulder as he slid his hands around his waist.

Hannibal hugged Will back and rested his jaw against the back of Will's head, just holding him for a long, wordless moment, feeling real  _ acceptance _ for the first time.

Will knew what he was, and embraced him.

After a long moment, Will chuckled, disbelieving. "You've successfully tugged the career rug right out from under my feet. I don't know what I can do anymore..."

"I'm certain there is a place for someone of your talents," Hannibal murmured, comfortingly.

Will canted his head up a little, nose pressed against Hannibal's pulse as his arms went around his shoulders tighter.

"Have you considered contacting the FBI? I noticed you have a degree hung on your wall ..." Hannibal snuggled Will in his arms.

"They won't take me, I don't pass their tests," he said, murmured into Hannibal's throat.

"They are always looking for professors, those who can share their remarkable insight in a lecture hall..." Hannibal suggested.

" _ Professor _ Graham?" Will asked, tilting his head back to look at Hannibal fully. He was serious. He had the degree to do it, he could teach... it would leave him out of the way of real investigations…

"Professor Will Graham," Hannibal said with an approving nod. "It has a very nice ring to it. Your talent is likely most beneficial in terms of profiling a suspect..."

"Or damning," Will pointed out, and let go of Hannibal to make more coffee. "Good for you, maybe."

"This is not about me," Hannibal said, smoothly, and followed Will with the iv pole, then took his hand to hook him back up to his fluids and medication.

"You can't deny it would be beneficial to have someone inside to keep off your trail," Will said, letting Hannibal hook him up, trusting him completely.

"If you are willing to do that, yes, I admit, it would be  _ very _ reassuring to know you are willing to protect me in such a capacity," Hannibal said, with a soft look in his eyes when he beheld Will.

"I hardly know you," Will said, even though he felt he knew Hannibal better than anyone did, though the same could be said for himself. "I'm supposed to go in soon anyway for another evaluation."

"You know me well enough, better than anyone else, at the moment, Will," Hannibal said, and nodded. "When?"

"Few days, if I can leave the house long enough," he said, giving Hannibal a look, and then wry smile.

"I think perhaps resting a while longer will do you good, that is my medical opinion, as well as the advice of a friend," Hannibal said with a smirk back.

"I'll call and reschedule later," Will said, what was another week, or few weeks, or a month in the long run? They'd tell him what he knew already, what they tell him all the time.

"Have they assessed you frequently?" Hannibal asked, and walked Will to the sofa, then sat with him, supporting Will on the way down.

"Every few months I go to try and convince them I'm fit for duty," Will said, sitting down, close to Hannibal, hand on his thigh.

"Perhaps," Hannibal said, momentarily distracted by Will's hand. "Perhaps it is time to stop trying to convince them."

"And just take a teaching post if they offer? What have I got to lose?" Will asked, sarcastically, and sighed.

"Lecturing is not the same as holding a discussion with your students. You speak, they listen, it would be far, far less demanding than patrolling..."

"Far less interaction," Will added on, and nodded, he liked the sound of that, and it was less dangerous, less mind to get into the middle of.

"I'm sure you would come home to the dogs less drained at the end of the day, less in need of a drink," Hannibal said, having noticed the whiskey bottle collection in the recycling bin.

Will rolled his eyes, he liked his whiskey, it was a good mind number. "Yeah... maybe."

Hannibal watched Will roll his eyes, and reached over to brush a stray eyelash from his cheek, sitting a little more closely to him as he did. "I am, likewise, considering a change of career. What you said about therapy has not left my mind..."

"You took me seriously?" Will asked, looking over at Hannibal, how close he was, drawn nearer, his hand still planted on his thigh.

"I take you  _ quite _ seriously, Will," Hannibal said with a warm look in his eyes.

"So you do," the brunet whispered, and leaned his head on Hannibal's shoulder gently.

Hannibal pulled Will a little closer, so that they were cuddled together on the couch, almost just as they had been cuddled together in bed the night before. "I would hate to think I am cavalier about the things you think, or say. I am anything but."

Will shook his head and leaned in to kiss Hannibal's cheek, a bold move, but he almost felt it was time to move past their polite barriers. "Mhm."

Hannibal's eyes closed at the kiss to his skin, and he smiled at the sweet gesture, then cupped Will's face with one hand, and moved closer, their lips near each other's, hovering close enough that a hypnotizing magnetism was palpable.

"I am wholeheartedly devoted to you, Will," he whispered.

Will could feel Hannibal's breath against his mouth, and leaned in instinctively, watching his eyes and lips. "How devoted?"

Hannibal showed Will. He leaned in the rest of the way, which was only a sliver of air between their mouths, and kissed Will.

The first touch of their lips sent a current through Hannibal's spine, and unlike any other kiss he'd ever had before, Hannibal's multiple trains of thought all stalled in his head, everything stopped ... except for the feeling of a kiss that was almost cosmic in it's significance.

Will felt the charge go through him and he sighed, leaning in more, head canted, and holding Hannibal's shoulder. It felt right and perfect. Will knew instantly he was in trouble.

Hannibal's head tilted, just  _ enough _ to lock their lips together. He parted his lips a little, and tilted Will's head back as he deepened the kiss, his own usually calm heart pounding wildly in his chest, like the kiss had woken it from a long, long slumber.

A groan escaped Will’s throat he couldn't control, and he grasped Hannibal tighter, hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck as their lips locked. Will parted his and slid his tongue gently against the curve of Hannibal's bottom one.

Hannibal's groan echoed Will's and he brushed his own tongue against Will's then sucked gently, and felt his arms pull Will into his lap. Will groaned, crawling into Hannibal's lap, arms around him tightly, kissing him deeper, passionately.

Hannibal had imagined, of course, what kissing Will might be like, but he had never thought it would be  _ this _ blindingly passionate from both of them. Having kissed many, many people, male and female alike, Hannibal had never felt  _ dizzy _ from a kiss before, picked up and  _ shaken _ hard, like a martini in the making. He reached a slightly trembling hand to the back of Will's neck, and kept him close as their tongues brushed.

Will’s IV'd hand rested on Hannibal's shoulder, the other on his chest. Will let out a humming approval when Hannibal held there, keeping him grounded. He was pretty sure this was dream.

A feverish one.

"Hannibal-" he groaned against the other man's mouth, nipping softly at his them.

The sound of Will groaning his name in such a manner seemed to ignite something in Hannibal, and the elegant man kissed Will  _ hard _ , like Will was a breath of clean air in a dim and suffocating cavern. He had been doing his best to seduce Will, and did not expect to be so completely seduced in turn.

Hannibal had been very much in Will’s life for a few weeks now, at every turn, it was would have been difficult for Will not to fall for him when even his dogs were enchanted.

Pulling back for a second,Will panted, licking his lips as he gazed at Hannibal.Hannibal stared up at Will, as though the kiss had been a revelation, his dark eyes genuinely surprised.

"You ... really are remarkable," Hannibal whispered.

Will realized he was quite infatuated, and found Hannibal very interesting now that he knew some truths about him. He rested his head against Hannibal's, arms around his shoulders so they were pressed close.

"So are you... and dangerous."

"In turn, I find you dangerous in your own way," Hannibal whispered, and held Will in his arms, cradling him close.

"I couldn't even shoot a man who stabbed  me," Will whispered, "Hardly dangerous."

"There are many different sorts of dangerous," Hannibal murmured, wisely, and rested his head over WIll's.

"Oh?" Will asked, genuinely curious. "Tell me about them."

"There is the danger of a predator, of course. But the danger of a beautiful lure is one I'm certain you know well, as a fisherman..." Hannibal murmured, admiring the blue of Will's eyes.

"Mm, yes," Will said, and kissed Hannibal for that, like he understood him completely.

Will was the irresistible lure, to which Hannibal knew he was  _ hooked _ , completely. He leaned into the kiss, chest rising and sinking as he revelled in the feeling of Will's lips over his own.

"And you have fascinated me," Hannibal whispered.

Will knew he should be running, but the way Hannibal's mouth felt against his was  _ too _ perfect to run from. He let out a sigh, heavily, and nuzzled into him, and then another kiss. Hannibal pulled Will down, into the kiss, able to taste coffee for breakfast, Will's medication, his toothpaste, and  _ him _ . The affection he felt from Will was sweet, and it surprised Hannibal how much he wanted /more/ of it.

Will felt hot all over suddenly, like a fever spiked in him, and he wasn't sure if it was that or just the way Hannibal made him feel. "You've jumped over my forts, and crawled in through the back," he whispered against Hannibal's mouth.

Hannibal smiled at that, and brushed their lips together, again. "You tempted me inside, then bolted the doors behind me, I am your captive," Hannibal retorted, between slow kisses.

Will chuckled; "I wouldn't know what to do with a captive."

"I would suggest continuing to lavish me with affection," Hannibal purred, as he nuzzled Will's face, picturing a stag held in Will's house as a happy, but confused, pet.

Will gave another chuckle at that and kissed Hannibal's neck, able to smell a little sweat and cologne on him, which made his blood boil even more. "Mm."

Hannibal gave a soft moan, and stretched his long throat out for Will's mouth, very pleased that Will did seem to like the cologne Hannibal selected to wear around him. It may very well become his permanent fragrance, he considered. "Your lips are beautifully soft..." he whispered.

Will kissed up to his ear and bit softly, breathing there for a moment, and then pulled back, watching Hannibal, able to see this was more than he had hoped for. "You didn't think  I'd ever  _ see _ you...."

"It was not something that has ever happened before," Hannibal whispered, and moved his face closer, so that their lips brushed together when Hannibal spoke. "You are a singularity, Will ..."

Will sighed, and kissed Hannibal again, unable  _ not _ to, and how could he not, when Hannibal was  _ so _ kissable.

Will's lips were impossible to resist, even if Hannibal wanted to. He pulled Will down into the slow, sweet kiss, and brushed their tongues together, wondering if Will figured out, or minded what Hannibal had really been serving him.

Will snuggled closer, hip to hip, arms tight around Hannibal as their tongues chased after the other.

Hannibal sank back into the couch, laying back a little, and pulled Will down with him as they kissed, making out like adolescents who were just discovering attraction for the first time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Noy Beta'd, and a little rough as it comes from an RP log. Please don't mind it :)  
> 2) Also, it sorta ends, but eludes to more so you know use your imagination.

Feeling better than he had in weeks, and after his physical with the PD physician, Will went home to gather up Winston and Poptart, and drove out in his old truck to the address Hannibal provided. He was in the jacket and pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and boots.

Will's truck looked entirely out of place in the manicured neighborhood, and Hannibal smiled when he heard it rumble down the street, then stop in front of the house.

Poptart barked at the window, and wagged, pawing at the glass as Hannibal walked closer.

Will laughed and opened the door for her, and she ran out to paw at Hannibal's legs."She has been antsy the whole ride."

Hannibal bent down, gracefully, and lifted the little white dog, who snuggled into his arms, happily, licking at the air near his face. "Almost as though she knew I was waiting," Hannibal smirked at Will.

"I might have to just give her to you," Will said with a smile, and honestly, he had enough dogs, he told himself he'd just keep them until they found better homes.

"I think she'd be much happier with you and the others," Hannibal said, even though he smiled at the silly dog, and petted her belly before he pulled keys from his pocket. "How was your appointment?"

"Not healthy enough for duty, and they want to reevaluate my psychology tests. I don't know if I'm going to bother to give them the time," Will said, joining Hannibal as Winston trotted along beside them.

"Is there any point to it if you are not interested in returning to duty?" Hannibal asked as he opened the front door and held it for Will and Winston, inviting them into the beautiful foyer.

Will walked through, Winston at his side, and looked around. "I need to work. Bills will not pay themselves."

"What of what we discussed, the FBI?" Hannibal asked and opened a door that led into a  _ beautiful _ , two story office with red accent walls, and sweeping architectural details.

"I'm working on it. It's the FBI, they're much harder to convince than with just a degree," Will said, looking at the rich colors, aware this was  _ very _ Hannibal.

Hannibal walked into the center of the office and looked up at the balconies, then at the windows. "You need to show them what you can do, that you are /uniquely/ qualified," Hannibal said, thoughtfully.

"Anyone can lecture and teach," Will said, walking with Hannibal, no more impressed than he would be with any house, honestly.

"This might be an ideal office for therapy. There is a separate entrance to the side, with a waiting room," Hannibal said, and admired the pale wood floor.

"As if someone had it as such before," Will noted, touching the sides of the walls as he looked around the room.

"It could be quite comfortable: a couch here, a desk there, my books on the balcony," Hannibal said, and touched the edge of the ladder that led up to the balconies.

"How many books do you have?" Will asked, curious now. Will loved a good library.

"Hundreds," Hannibal said with a seductive look. "I noticed you had many in the back rooms of your house," he said with a little smile at Will, walking closer to him.

"I do. I don't really have a spot for them all, so they stay piled up and unorganized." He gave Hannibal a sly grin, somewhat over his shoulder.

"You are welcome to peruse my collection anytime," Hannibal said, as he walked closer to Will, from behind. "Some are in what would be foreign languages to you, but there are many in English."

"I look forward to scavenging your collection then," he smiled, looking around the room, able to easily see where Hannibal would put things. It wasn't hard now that he felt himself slipping inside him, mentally.

Hannibal touched the side of Will's waist, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw. "And of course, when you work with the FBI, you are welcome to stay here any time you are in the city ... or any time at all."

Will turned his head to capture Hannibal's mouth with his own, and then moved around completely, arms around his shoulders. "That'd be five days a week..."

"Very well," Hannibal whispered and kissed Will back in the middle of his empty office, one hand fisted in the back of his shirt while the dogs walked around the office, sniffing it.

"I know what you're doing," Will gasped between kisses, starting to become very attached and very distracted by Hannibal, his senses filling with him.

"Do you? Do tell," Hannibal whispered back, and sucked at Will's lower lip as he pressed him against the ladder.

"You're..." Will started to say, distracted as Hannibal pressed against him, causing his back to bent to the ladder, arching his hips against Hannibal's. "You're giving me reasons to live with you...."

"How inappropriate of me," Hannibal whispered, and stroked his hand down Will's hips. "We've barely begun to date and I'm already trying to bring you into my home..."

"You're courting backwards," Will chided, teasingly, and bit at Hannibal's bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth.

"I am impatient," Hannibal whispered back, and groaned a little when Will  _ bit _ him. "And I think about you constantly when I am not near you. I cannot analyze the minds of others when my own is  _ so _ preoccupied."

Will groaned back, the sound of Hannibal's spike lust through him, and his hips arched forward again into his. "Teaching will be such a bore knowing you're here..."

"Waiting..." Hannibal whispered back, and touched the small of Will's back through his shirt as they kissed. "Possibly with dinner."

Will groaned into the kiss again, and did so harder, tugging on Hannibal's lapels of his suits, pulling him closer. "Some errant plumber likely."

"Very possibly," Hannibal whispered, and wrapped both arms around Will, keeping their bodies close as they kissed passionately.

"Some rude patient..." Will was falling faster for Hannibal, and he knew it was because they were so alike, and yet so different, but they understood each other, and it was  _ pleasant _ . "Hannibal..." he sighed, gently tongue tracing the curve of his mouth.

They were alike enough to understand each other, and different enough to enjoy a little friction.

It was the perfect balance.

"Shall I show you the rest of the house?" Hannibal whispered, suggestively, as he pulled Will into the room by his waist, still kissing him deeply.

"I get the feeling you've already bought this place," Will said, allowing himself to be pulled, arms around broad shoulders.

"Perhaps," Hannibal whispered, and walked Will out of the office, into the kitchen as they kissed each other, ceaselessly.

Will chuckled, passing into the kitchen, mouths unable to part much at all, just a few gasps for breath. "Of course, the kitchen..."

"My favorite room," Hannibal whispered, and pressed Will against the counter for a deep kiss, then lifted him up, so that he was sitting on the counter, and Hannibal tilted his head back to lean up for the kiss. Will wrapped long legs around Hannibal's waist, tugging him in for a deeper kiss, all tongue and teeth, hands in his hair.

Hannibal didn't mind Will mussing his hair at all, he hadn't seen him in a day, and missed him more than he ever thought he would miss anyone after so short a time. He slipped the button of Will's shirt undone at the top of his chest, then ran his hand down, through the opening.

"Look what you do to me," Will whispered, against Hannibal's mouth, with a groan as bare skin was touched, and a flush warmed his body.

"Gladly," Hannibal purred, and opened Will's shirt, then kissed his chest where it was exposed. His sharp teeth scraped over Will's blushing skin as he undressed Will, and then bit his erect nipple.

Will tugged on Hannibal's hair, letting himself be undressed slowly with the lavish of kisses and biting, that elicited more noises than he cared to say he could make.

Hannibal pulled Will's shirt off of his shoulders, lavishing his neck with slow, warm kisses that left soft red marks on his skin. He ran his palms over Will's bare arms, and flicked his watch undone, then tugged it off.

Will canted his head to the side gently, letting Hannibal kiss heat into his skin, this time not from fever, but lust. "You render me useless, I swear..."

"You are  _ essential _ to me," Hannibal protested with a long, hot kiss and undid Will's belt with deft hands.

Will moaned into the kiss, sucking on Hannibal's tongue as he framed his face with his palms, trying to memorize every bit of this moment.

Hannibal undid Will's pants, and undid the zipper, slowly, both of them breathing hard as their lips collided and then stared at him, hungrily. "You are  _ beautiful _ ," Hannibal whispered, awestruck at Will's eyes and his blushing skin, taken with him.

Will panted breaths between their mouth, biting his own lip as Hannibal gazed at him like that, and then lifted his hips so he could remove his tattered jeans. Hannibal peeled Will's jeans down, off of his ass with his underwear at the same time, and crouched to kiss his legs on the way down, divesting Will of  _ everything _ , including his socks and shoes.

"Perfect," Hannibal whispered, and stood to touch Will's chest and kiss him.

"Not only have you stripped me of my forts and walls, but you have rendered me naked," Will murmured, fondly, a blush creeping along his whole body as Hannibal gazed at him like that.

"You are radiant," Hannibal said, honestly, and kissed Will back, hungrily, and ran his hands over Will's body, starving for the touch of his skin.

Will undid Hannibal's tie and slipped it through his shirt slowly, and then started to undo buttons, quickly. He spread his hands across the plains of hair on his chest as he pushed the shirt and jacket off. Hannibal shrugged his jacket off, then his shirt, so that he was bare-chested. He bit at the side of Will's neck, and worked his way up to Will's ear to suck at the velvety earlobe as his heart pounded.

"Hannibal," Will whispered, fingers tugging on the coarse hairs of Hannibal's chest, and slid them over his nipples, and down to his hips, undoing his belt.

Hannibal moaned, and lifted himself up onto the counter, crawling over Will to kiss him on the marble of the top of the island. He arched his hips, and shifted his thighs, working his undone trousers down, nothing on underneath.

Will gasped, laying back on the counter as he watched Hannibal slither and move like a snake, shedding his skin. He reached to hold him, grasping his uncut cock in his hand, having never actually felt the weight of another man's length before.

Hannibal's head bowed down with pleasure, against Will's head so that they breathed together. He moaned, and dragged his hand down Will's chest, over his stomach, then grasped him. "Will-"

"I've never done this-" Will breathed, gazing up into Hannibal's eyes, kissing him softly between bated, panted breaths. He curled his hand under Hannibal's cock, cupping his balls, feeling them, too, in his hand.

"That is unimportant," Hannibal whispered and kissed Will's throat, biting and sucking as he rocked himself into Will's palm, throbbing.

Will writhed with pleasure, squeezing his hand around Hannibal as he thrust into it, touch as he would touch himself.

Hannibal gasped, sharing breath with Will as they rocked and writhed against each other, slowly, hands stroking and squeezing slowly. "Good," Hannibal encouraged him, and let his own palm move down to cup Will's balls, working over them.

Will’s mouth dropped a little as he was fondled, almost forgetting to breathe. He hitched his hips up, knees parting to bring Hannibal between them, squeezing his palm around Hannibal's cock in slow, perfect motions.

Hannibal moved his hand over Will's cock, then his balls, over and over again, working his lover up as he kissed his way down his chest. "Have you ever had a man use his mouth on you?" Hannibal whispered, seductively.

"No," Will whispered out sharply, watching Hannibal move and kiss down his body. They hadn't gone this far yet, but he had  _ ached _ for it for days.

Hannibal kissed the rise of Will's hip bone, slowly, and looked up at him with molten eyes."Would you like to?"

Will gasped and bit the inside of his lip, nodding. "Yes... oh please..."

That was music to Hannibal's ears. He took the base of Will's thick cock in hand, and breathed against him, then dragged his tongue over the length with a groan at the taste of Will at the tip. He admired the look of his saliva on Will's cock, then swallowed his cock, slowly, engulfing him with wet warmth.

Will’s hips rose into the moist heat of Hannibal's mouth, and he palmed the back of his head with one hand, the other clutching the counter under him. Hannibal's mouth was surprisingly hot around Will, and his tongue so deft that it seemed devilish as he exploited Will's nerves with his teeth.

"Hmmm," Hannibal groaned with deep approval when he sucked at the swollen head of Will's cock.

"Hot," Will groaned, but loved it, and tugged on Hannibal's hair to show his appreciation, hips pivoted up to get more of his heat.

Will tasted and felt divine. Hannibal could feel him throbbing with blood in his mouth, and sucked him lavishly, drenching him and working him over with his pouty lips until Will's cock was rock hard against Hannibal's exploring tongue.

The brunet  gasped, hips rising as he felt heat started to explode and explore his thighs and lower back, and he clenched a little, trying to stave off the feeling. "Mm..."

Hannibal felt Will clench and used his free hand to fondle Will's balls again, slowly, tugging at them and rolling them in his wide palm as he began to suck again. Shadows collected under Hannibal's sharp cheekbones, and he caressed the inside of Will's thigh with his other palm, then scraped his nails over it, gently.

"Hannibal!-" he all but shouted, sure the he was going to come completely undone all ready, and they just started.

Hannibal didn't stop, almost  _ begging _ Will with the powerful sucks of his mouth to spill down the back of his throat. If anything, he began to lash his tongue against Will's cock even more vigorously and teased the tiny, but sensitive space behind his balls with the tip of his finger.

Will gasped, and grasped fingers into Hannibal's hair, all but rutting into his mouth, and then he came with a moan, toes tense against the counter top, grinding his cock against Hannibal’s tongue as he spilled over into his mouth.

_ Beautiful ...  _ Hannibal thought when Will  _ rammed _ himself into his throat with erotic desperation that was on the verge of a frenzy. Hannibal swallowed around Will's erupting cock, and worked his tongue over his throbbing head, cleaning him off slowly and savouring the taste and scent of him.

"I must be insane to let a cannibal suck my dick,"  Will murmured, disbelief in his voice, but he was smiling, face flushed.

Hannibal pulled his mouth off of Will, and kissed his hip as he chuckled. "You are capable of incredible trust," Hannibal whispered, and kissed his way up Will's flat stomach.

"I am, for you," Will whispered, watching Hannibal take his time back up to him. "What can I offer you in return?"

"Anything you  _ want _ to offer me," Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will's neck as they lay on the marble slab together. "There is no obligation involved here, tasting and feeling you against my tongue was a  _ pleasure _ ," he whispered, sincerely.

"I'd feel very rude not doing something in return," Will murmured, and kissed Hannibal sweetly, hotly, on the mouth. He was new to all of this, it was strange, but his attracted didn't let that hinder his hunger.

"I cannot imagine anything you might do to me that I would not enjoy," Hannibal purred against Will's lips.

"I am very  _ versatile _ .”


	5. Chapter 5

Well-equipped with ingredients of all sorts, Hannibal arrived at Will's house, and let himself in after a soft knock that brought all the dogs to the door. Hannibal scattered a few dried jerky treats for them, and carried his grocery bags into the kitchen, with a fond smile at Will. "Good morning, Professor."

Will rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, and looked up from his papers scattered across the counter. Hannibal had helped him find a decent barber, and new pair of glasses, and fitted him into nicer, tailored clothes. "Good morning, doctor."

Hannibal set his groceries down, and leaned over the counter to kiss Will's lips, lingering and slow as he touched the side of his handsome face, then pulled back, very gently, and thumbed Will's clean-shaven jaw.

"You are dazzling."

Will gazed at Hannibal, still feeling his lips against his. His eyes looked bluer and bigger behind the new lenses. "Dazzling? Makes me feel like a figure skater."

Hannibal laughed at the unusual association, and picked Poptart up, who was clamoring for his attention. He was dressed in lean slacks today that showed the length of his legs to the fullest, and a cashmere sweater the color of Poptart's fur, that clung to his form just a little, and looked seductively soft.

"Did you watch a lot of figure skating growing up, Will?"

"It was better than sports," Will offered, since his father often had on baseball or football, Will always tried to find something else that didn't relate to his father.

"And likely less stressful than the hyper-aggression so imbued into American sports," Hannibal mused, and tilted his head at Will, imagining him as a young boy.

"I told you there were lots of reasons I was picked on." Will left it at that, not wanting to jump into that subject anymore. "What'd you bring?"

Hannibal set Poptart into Will's lap, and kissed him again, then washed his hands under the tap. "Ingredients with which to prepare quiche, pancetta, and warmed peaches and brandy."

"Sounds delightful," Will said, stacking papers into a folder, and then that into a his satchel.

"Glad you approve," Hannibal said with a smile, and draped an apron over his own chest, then tied the strings around his narrow waist and started to work."What is the subject of your first lecture?"

"I'm going to go over the old case of the Chesapeake Ripper. I thought it might be good to get everyone's perspective of it. It's been sitting for a while now."

"The Chesapeake ... Ripper?" Hannibal asked, as he cooked, as though he'd never heard of it before, and kept chopping the meat he'd brought. "That sounds like something from a horror film."

"You've never heard? His work is very artistic. He leaves the bodies on display as some form of art work or sculpture. He usually only takes a few things from them. Motive isn't known yet, but he's been killing in sounders of three. It's interesting," Will explained, watching Hannibal.

"And he has stopped?" Hannibal asked, as he let the pancetta in a pan to sizzle, then began to work on the quiche crust, listening to Will as his hands moved, deftly.

"For now. Last murder was a year ago. It's about the time he'd start again..." Will shrugged.

"You sound as though you've taken an interest in the Ripper's case. Did you investigate as an officer?" Hannibal asked, with a neutral look over at Will, and tossed Poptart a little piece of meat trimming, which she gobbled up.

"A bit. I wasn't really allowed to, though, it was sent to the FBI, but now that I teach there, I can get my hands on a lot more things."

"You characterized his work as ... artistic?" Hannibal asked, curiously."You believe murder can be art?"

"He makes it theatrical. He wants his work to be seen. Probably likes to read about it in the paper, too," Will muses and puts his papers into his bag.

"Many killers do," Hannibal said with a nod, and watched Will stash the papers. "Do you think he ever visited a crime scene? Artists do love to see the reactions of their audiences, after all."

"It's possible, and no one would know. Gawkers are always at a crime scene. He could easily blend in, at least once or twice."

Hannibal looked up, again, and shuffled the cooking contents of one frying pan, expertly. "What does your instinct tell you about this killer, Will?"

"In terms of what?" Will asked, clearing the rest of his work into his satchel, and then stood to stand with Hannibal in the kitchen.

"I'm intrigued by your approach, by the way you view him, why you believe he's acting as he does," Hannibal said, and rolled out the quiche crust, then laid it over a pie dish as he spoke.

"I can't say what my instinct says yet, I haven't been to a real crime scene, the picture they have in the files are enough to go on, but I do better on the spot, actually reliving someone's footsteps."

"You suspect he is ready to kill again, what makes you think so?" Hannibal asked as he poured the quiche filling into the crust, and set it in the warmed oven.

"It's been too long. I doubt he's given up. Or moved. He'd have to reestablish then." Will shrugged, and poured them both some coffee.

"If and when he resumes his brutal habits, what do you imagine that would mean for your role with the FBI?" Hannibal asked, and watched Will pour their drinks.

Another shrug. Will put a little cream in Hannibal's and one sugar in his own. "I don't know. They haven't said much other than my teaching position."

Hannibal nodded, and kept cooking as he listened. "I'm sure they would find you a valued asset, very quickly," Hannibal said, graciously, and looked back at Will as he began to plan his own week, re-writing the immaculate date-book in his mind.

"That is assuming he strikes again," Will chuckled, and wrapped an arm around Hannibal.

"I have the suspicion that your excellent intuition is usually correct," Hannibal said, and fed Will a slice of peach on a fork, over his shoulder.

Will took the slice and chewed it, slowly, humming. "I dunno about that. Guess we'll see."

"I suppose we will," Hannibal said, as though savoring the words, and sipped the coffee that Will made for him. It was hardly the sort he usually enjoyed, but Will's touch made it too precious an offering to refuse.

Hannibal set everything to simmer on the stove, and turned in Will's arms to face him, looking over his delicate features with a soft expression in his eyes. "Perhaps I should stay the evening to make certain you've rested enough for your first day. You do have a tendency to forget to go to sleep," Hannibal said, with a little smile in his gaze.

Will gazed up at Hannibal and smiled a little. He liked when Hannibal stayed, so did the dogs. "I'd like that."

Will's cobalt blue eyes were hypnotizing, especially through the new frames Hannibal persuaded Will to wear, and Hannibal stared into Will's irises, happily distracted from breakfast.

"I find myself restless on the nights I spend without you," Hannibal said, honestly, one hand against Will's narrow waist.

"I'd ask you to move out here with me, but you just bought a house," Will mused, honestly, and rested his forehead against Hannibal's.

Hannibal looked at Will with a little surprise, and the elegant shape of his lips pulled into a smile when he realized Will was serious. "Would you really?" Hannibal asked. tilting his head as he looked at his young boyfriend with a sense of wonder at how Will could surprise him.

"I would. I miss you too much, I don't sleep when you're not here..." Will laughed at himself, shaking his head. "Your work is at your home now. I wouldn't ask you to do that."

Their breakfast sizzled and simmered on the stove, ignored, as Hannibal watched Will's curls shake when he laughed.

"As owner of the property, I could always maintain my practice in the office at the house, and lease out a tenancy in the residential area," he said, considering his options carefully. His new house was not only outfitted for entertaining and living in, but for his unique needs in the basement. "I would hardly be the only man in Baltimore to maintain more than one property."

"That's a bit of a drive for you," Will laughed again and brushed the idea off. "Forget I mentioned it. We.. we've just started this. I don't want to get clingy so soon, and then you'll get annoyed with me..."

"I admit, I enjoy being away from the city. The quiet and the space is soothing, and my interest in maintaining a social presence in Baltimore wanes a little more every day," Hannibal said, then pulled one of the pans off of it's element.

He turned back at Will, newly resolved. "I do not mind you clinging to me, in the least."

Will was hiding his face in his mug when Hannibal turned back to him. "You'd leave your life behind to hide away out here with me?"

"In a word: possibly," Hannibal said with a sparkle in his eyes, and licked his lips when he looked at Will.

"I  _ do _ have the tendency to decorate my residences, one's surroundings are important to one's peace of mind, after all. Would you object to that?"

"You... want to redecorate my house?" Will asked, quietly, not sure it was offending at all…

"To suit both of us," Hannibal explained, and looked around. "It's only an idea, Will, and I promise to consider your tastes," he said, with a soft smile, and a gleam in his eyes as though he'd told a joke. "Indeed, you have already made it into my decor at the house in Baltimore. My dining room is the color of your eyes, the flooring I've ordered the precise shades of chestnut and mahogany in your hair, and I could not resist ordering marble the color of your skin for my counter tops. It seems I am already trying my best to share a house with you, even in your absence."

That was... obsessive, but Will had never had someone who wanted to be with him this much.

"It seems it might be a waste to not live in it."

"I would rather live  _ with  _ you than in a three-story shrine to your charms," Hannibal said, and noticed a subtle flush to Will's cheek, which pleased him.

"Maybe the dogs and I could... come live with you as a trial, see how we make of it," the brunet offered, drinking his coffee to hide his smile and flush.

"That would be splendid," Hannibal said, honestly, and noticed both signs of Will's happiness at the thought. "I assure you, my neighborhood is very quiet, and the back yard is spacious," Hannibal murmured, having /hoped/ for this since the moment he purchased the house.

"We can come out here on weekends," the empath suggested and rested his head on Hannibal's shoulder as they waited for the quiche.

"That could be a beautiful balance," Hannibal said, with a smile, and kissed Will's cheek, then his lips, slowly and deeply. "Our home, our weekend home..."

"Mhm," Will hummed, kissing Hannibal back deeply, arms around him tightly now, mug on the counter.

Will's lips were soft, and impossible to pull away from. They felt like warm velvet against Hannibal's, and he pulled Will closer to him by his hips as he tilted his head so that their lips locked, perfectly.

Coming  _ home _ to Will would be almost unimaginable bliss.

Will groaned into the kiss, hands on his shoulders as they snaked up and around them, pulling them together seamlessly. Will never thought  _ anyone _ would want him, let alone  _ live _ with him.

Easily, Hannibal lifted Will and set him on the counter, then leaned his head back to kiss Will's mouth where it hovered above his own.

Will living in Baltimore would be perfect, Hannibal could show him everything he'd chosen so carefully, they could see one another every day, and perhaps someday, Hannibal could even bring Will into the basement, and share what he had there with him just like everything else.

Will hummed in pleasure, nipping kisses against Hannibal's mouth, adoringly. Who knew a month ago a trip to the ER would land him a boyfriend and a new job.

Will was the most divine distraction Hannibal could ever have imagined, and he forgot entirely about his quiche as they kissed. Both of his strong hands swept up Will's chest, then over the sides of his neck to cup his face, and their lips didn't part for a second of it.

Hannibal stroked his tongue against Will's, and one hand made it's way into the dark mess of his curls, twisting and caressing the strands.

Will always felt like he was being consumed, completely, body and soul, and he loved that Hannibal could make him feel that way. His pulse picked up as their tongues touched and rubbed, heated under his shirt.

The timer rang for the quiche, and Hannibal's hand shot out to shut the oven off without pulling away from Will. He burned his thumb in the process, against one of the still-hot elements, but kept kissing his boyfriend after a soft gasp.

Will took his hand and put the thumb into his own mouth, almost sucking on it as he watched Hannibal, still up close.

"Will..." Hannibal sighed, in a hungry tone, and watched Will's cheeks hollow as he sucked at the burnt skin.

"A shallow burn," Will reassured his boyfriend in a voice that betrayed Hannibal's utter lack of interest in the burn itself.

"But that /does/ help," he purred.

Will licked his thumb and then kissed Hannibal again, slowly, sucking his tongue into his mouth, hands in his perfectly combed hair.

Hannibal's ashy, soft, straight hair tumbled out of it's neat style when Will touched it. Their lips joined again, and opened, allowing their tongues to wind and brush ceaselessly against one another.

With a hum, Hannibal slipped WIll's glasses off of him, and set them aside.

Will blinked his big blue eyes at him, biting at his tongue and lips, hungrily. They were always like this when they saw each other, unable to get enough.

"I missed you," he murmured through kisses.

"I missed you," Hannibal repeated, and undid Will's shirt buttons with his burned hand. The pain of the buttons against his pink skin was a strangely pleasurable punctuation to their entanglement.

"You turn me into a horny teenager every time you're near me," he confessed, letting Hannibal undress him.

Hannibal nipped at Will's lips, and shucked Will's shirt off, then tossed it to the side and kissed Will's throat, lips and teeth hovering and working over the spot where Will's pulse made his flesh quake.

"You are barely out of your adolescence," Hannibal whispered, admiringly.

Will let out a huff at that, but his body shivered where Hannibal's kissed him, eager for more of his touch, blood thrumming through his system, boiling under his skin.

"That make you a cradle robber?"

"I've been called far worse," the elegant doctor whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

Quite taken with the stylish fashion-plate his young professor had become, Hannibal stepped into the living room to find Will, pocketing his phone as he did so.

"You're prepared for your lecture for tomorrow?" he asked, as he looked Will over, with a sigh.

"Yes," Will said, having come from his office and working on all night since yesterday. They were just weeks out from break, and he had to get a lot of information crammed into them before then.

Hannibal sauntered closer, and rested one hand against the side of Will's trim waist. "How are your pupils fairing?" he asked, with a little smile in his deep brown eyes.

"They're good. Most of them." Will laughed at that and put his arms around Hannibal, having missed him.

"I don't imagine you tolerate lackadaisical behavior," Hannibal said with an admiring smile, and embraced Will, pulling him closer as he looked his perfect features over.

"I don't, but it's their career, not mine if they decide to slack off." Will rested his head against Hannibal's, they usually went to wolf trap on weekends but with Will swamped with work, they stayed at Hannibal's. "What have you been up to?"

"Cooking," Hannibal said, as he wrapped his arms around Will's shoulders and sighed. "I cannot send you to work without a decent lunch."

Will smiled, and sighed out gently, glad to be home after that long night. "You can feed me now."

"Thankfully, yes. One cannot live on poptarts alone," Hannibal said, and looked over as the dog of the same name sat at his feet, expectantly.

"No, one cannot," Will agreed, though he would try, that and ramen, but now that they all lived with Hannibal, there were none of those things in sight.

Hannibal had destroyed Will's ramen and other junk food, in the name of cabinet space, of course.

"I adore you in this ivory color," Hannibal said, with a touch to the collar of Will's shirt, then the pink in his cheek. "Wear this to work and I'll have to come by to visit you."

Will rolled his eyes, leaning in to kiss Hannibal, softly. "You'll take any and all excuses to come see me."

"Well, I'd need to make certain you hadn't attracted any student admirers," Hannibal smiled, and kissed Will, holding it for a moment.

"No, no... no students," Will said, hands pressed against Hannibal's chest, as they shared another kiss.

Hannibal's chest was solid with muscle, and well, shaped, warm through his elegant shirt. He kissed Will back again, slowly, and looked into his eyes. "Very good. I am afraid I would be incredibly jealous."

"I would hate to see what you would do with this jealousy," Will admitted, and tipping his head just _so_ , letting their mouths fit together perfectly.

"Oh, you have _no_ idea," Hannibal whispered, and locked lips with Will, one hand curled possessively around the back of Will's neck.

Will's only response was the hum coming from his chest, arms around Hannibal, letting himself be held like a prize possession. No one had ever made Will feel so _wanted_ in his life. Hannibal's obsession with Will had not been quelled by living with him, if anything, he was more intensely fascinated than before.

He brushed their lips together, sharing Will's air as they nuzzled, intimately. "I would love to attend a lecture.

Will's heart swelled every time they were like this. The smell of food and the sound of the dogs mixed with everything here was homely, and it felt _right_. "You would?" he asked, quiet, sharing breath with Hannibal.

"Very much," Hannibal whispered, and tucked a stray curl behind Will's slender ear. "I promise to be on my best behavior, and not to be disruptive."

"You wouldn't find it dreadfully boring?" Will laughed, shaking his head just a little as Poptart made a little noise at their feet.

"You speaking about what you do? How could I possibly?" Hannibal asked, and crouched to pick Poptart up, cradling her in the crook one one long arm. "Any intriguing cases?"

"Nothing yet. A case a few states over, some girls are going missing," Will shrugged, it wasn't anything _yet_.

"But no definite pattern yet?" Hannibal asked, with polite curiosity as Poptart snuggled herself against his chest, quite proud of herself, tongue hanging out.

"Not yet." He couldn't talk about the case much, Jack had only come to him Friday about it and was trying to get Will cleared enough to go out in the field.

"Intriguing, have you been asked to assist?" Hannibal asked, and rubbed Poptart's chest, softly.

"Friday. Jack Crawford is trying to get me clearance. They want me to see a psychiatrist, _therapy_ through it so nothing happens..." He wasn't sure what they were afraid of.

Hannibal arched a pale eyebrow at the thought. "I happen to know one," he said, slyly, and looked back toward his office.

"Oh?" Will copied the look back at Hannibal.

Hannibal took Will's hand with his free hand, and led him through the house, past napping dogs, and into his office.

"This arrived just the other day," Hannibal said, nodding at his certificate of licensure as a psychiatrist in the state of Maryland.

"That quickly?" Will asked, unaware of just _how_ hard Hannibal had been studying and working for this. He looked at them, a smile brightening his eyes.

Hannibal's chest puffed out a little with pride when Will regarded him like that, and he nodded. "I have been working and writing exams while you've been at work, luckily, I have a contact at the licensure board, who assisted me in obtaining my documents quickly."

Will walked closer to look at the documents, reading Hannibal's name on them, he cast a sideways glance at his boyfriend. "You never cease to amaze me."

"Well, cooking unfortunately has not been all I have been doing," he said, with a smile at Will, eyes bright, almost the color of dark honey when he held his chin high, as he did now. Poptart woke up in his arms, and snuggled her head against his neck, for which Hannibal patted the dog's back, like a baby. "She's been very helpful. I assisted her in overcoming her fear of the hoover."

"She hates vacuums," Will muttered, and watched Hannibal with the little dog, reminded easily of how everything had changed so quickly in the last few months.

Hannibal set Poptart down and told her to stay with a motion of his hand, then stepped out, and came back with the vacuum cleaner from the closet.

"Observe. I used classical conditioning, every time she ran from the vacuum, she was not given attention, but when she approached or tolerated the machine, she was awarded a positive stimulus," Hannibal said, and watched Poptart sit down and look at the machine that used to terrify her, not running away. "Very good," he said, and tossed her a small, dried bit of jerky, then turned the machine on.

"Huh. I didn't think to do that, I just always put her in another room when I had to use it."

Poptart stiffened a little at the sound, but then wagged, and even laid down as Hannibal vacuumed around her, and shut it off to crouch and pet her behind her ears.

"We worked our way through a desensitization therapy. First, I rewarded her for tolerating the mere sight of the machine, then I rewarded her for being calm while it was on and making noise, and finally, she was rewarded for allowing me to use it around her," he said, and picked her up in his arms, then went to a teak desk in the middle of the room, and pulled out what looked like a slim book, and handed it to Will with a smile.

"My paper that I wrote on our experience," he said, and offered her another bit of jerky.

"You wrote a paper on my dog?" he asked, taking the book, flipping through it. Hannibal /had/ been very busy while he was working hefty hours with his new job.

"A short paper, nothing that could be published as a stand-alone book," Hannibal said, modestly, as Will looked through the book. There were a few photos of Poptart, her scared faces, her hiding from the machine, and then photos of her progressive relaxation.

"Together, we explored Pavlov, Skinner, and the more modern theories of Seligman on learned helplessness, and how to overcome it."

Impressed, Will set the book down, intending to read it to it's fullest later, of course. "You are quite the overachiever, but I'm sure Poptart is thankful."

Hannibal smiled again and looked at the admittedly ugly, but /charming/ dog he'd become close to while Will was busy at work. "One less thing to fear," he chuckled, and put the paper away again, in his office. Next to his desk sat a handsome, soft suede dog bed.

"I see the two of you have become more than friendly," Will said, nodding at the dog bed. "You let her in your office."

Hannibal looked at the bed, and chewed the inside of his cheek, thoughtfully, then set Poptart down and brushed off his suit.

"Oh, that is merely temporary," he said, in a detached manner. Poptart, however, scurried to her bed and hopped in, clearly _practiced_ at it, and smiled up at Will as she snuggled against the luxurious finish.

Will bent and pet her head, and looked over at Hannibal with a smile.

"Mhm," was all he said. "Do you want me to put in a word with Jack for you? I don't know if they'll let you if they know we live together..."

"It is _unusual_ of course, but who better qualified to monitor your mental health as you work in the field than someone who is able to see you in your everyday life?" Hannibal reasoned, and took a seat in his commanding office chair.

"That's true. I'll ask him tomorrow then," Will said, decidedly, and walked over to Hannibal's desk, and sat down on it, in front of him.

Hannibal looked up at Will with a gleam in his eyes, and brushed his hand over Will's knee. "As long as you consent, of course. It would also be invaluable to our work to know how you are when you are happy and healthy. You are happy, are you not?"

"Of course I am. Happier than I've been in a long time," Will said with a smile, watching Hannibal's hand on his knee, something he would have turned away from before Hannibal.

Hannibal let his hand drift up Will's thigh, and back down to his knee, a gentle caressing motion that he repeated as he gazed up at Will. "As am I, the happiness of my intimacy with you far surpasses that I had ever gained from shallow associations with people who bored me."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Will chuckled, reaching up to loosen the tie around his neck, growing suffocated feeling after wearing it for so long.

"It was meant to be a compliment," Hannibal assured him, and reached up to undo Will's tie, using the opportunity to draw him a little closer.

Will leaned, but with the tug he just got off the desk and sat across Hannibal's lap instead, closer to him, the way he preferred to be when they were alone. "Thank you."

"I prefer it when you make yourself at home," Hannibal whispered, and gazed at Will, close enough that their noses touched. "You are enchanting."

Will was still getting used to living here, even after a month, and sometimes found himself not sure what to do or where to go. He was getting it. Sometimes Hannibal poured him a glass of whiskey and ushered him off to the library to read by the fire. Soon he wouldn't need Hannibal to gesture that was okay.

"Enchanting?" he whispered, brushing his lips against Hannibal's.

Hannibal longed for the day Will did not feel like a guest, for the day he would feel as though he had roots in this house, that it was his as much as Hannibal's.

"I am enchanted by you, it follows that you are enchanting, yes," Hannibal teased, breathing the words against Will's smooth lips as he slipped the first button of his shirt undone.

Will hardly ever felt at home anywhere but /his/ home, but he was going to give this time, and he was sure with some of it, he would. "I can't see why," he whispered honestly, nosing against Hannibal's.

Hannibal curled his finger under Will's chin, and raised it so that their lips touched, lightly, but with a current of desire that was like a spark igniting. "You are unique, and breathtaking."

His eyes half close as their lips brush like that, a connection he'd never felt with anyone, and he felt _adored_ by Hannibal, cherished, and loved.

Hannibal cherished Will, in every possible way, even in his absence, his mind and the dark coals of his heart were trained on Will, constantly. He kissed Will's lips more deeply, and held it as he held Will with both arms, reclining them both in the expensive chair.

Will groaned into the kiss as it got deeper, and he pressed in closer, lips meshing seamlessly. He clutched Hannibal's shirt tightly in one fist, and then smoothed it out again, palming over his steady heart. The heart under Will's palm beat harder at the touch, as though it were trying to escape the cage of Hannibal's ribs and land in Will's hand.

Hannibal tilted his head, slowly, and locked their lips together perfectly, made to do precisely this.

Will threaded a hand through Hannibal's ashen hair, and pulled their mouths closer, parting his lips to lick at Hannibal's mouth slowly.

Hannibal groaned softly at the touch of Will's tongue, and pulled Will against his chest with both arms, heart pounding. He returned the almost primal _lick_ of Will's tongue with a soft bite.

Will moved into straddling Hannibal, kissing him harder for the bite, and bit him back. Hannibal always brought out his more animalistic side.

Will's heat and weight over Hannibal's loins was beautiful. Hannibal ran his hands up Will's thighs to his hips, palming them before he brushed his thumb over the line of Will's fly as he let Will sink his _teeth_ into him.

"You ... like that," Hannibal whispered, between more soft, teasing bites, teeth tugging gently at Will's tongue and lips.

Will bit Hannibal's mouth again, hips gyrating forward to seek out his hands, to seek out heat he _needed_ to find. "Yes..." he groaned against his mouth.

"Teeth in my flesh, my teeth rending yours..." Hannibal whispered, and palmed Will through his pants, slowly, still very, very controlled.

Will was hard against the fabric of his slacks, Hannibal always knew just how to kiss him to get them there, like a shockwave right to his cock. He dropped his head and bites Hannibal's jaw.

Hannibal's head tipped back, against the leather of the chair, and he flicked Will's belt undone, then the button at his waist, and eased his zipper down. "I've barely touched you," he moaned, as he found Will's hard cock with his palm.

"You work me up just looking at me," Will admitted, "Have since I met you." Admittedly, Hannibal's dark nature was appealing to Will.

"Lust is reflexive," Hannibal whispered as he stroked Will slowly, tugging just enough on his cock to drive him wild. "My desire of you increases your desire for me."

"Love to be _wanted_ ," Will groaned, lips against Hannibal's pulse, he grazed his teeth over the spot, feeling it beat faster.

"And your appetite for me increases with every bite you take of my skin," Hannibal whispered, with a roll of his hips in the chair, strong enough to lift Will with them.

Will let out another groan, long and deep, as Hannibal did that, and bit him harder, enough to draw blood. "Yes..."

Hannibal had to grit his own teeth so as not to come when Will's teeth sunk through his flesh like that. He gasped, and twisted one hand in Will's hair, mussing it. "Will-" he gasped in a low, shaking voice, barely able to contain himself.

Will lathed the blood with his tongue and then shared the taste with Hannibal, pressing it into his mouth with his tongue, rocking his hips into his hand.

Hannibal kissed Will, with ravenous passion, and stroked him harder, squeezing and rubbing as his own cock throbbed under his now very tight trousers. "Blood ... on your teeth," Hannibal whispered, and fought off the tensing of his own body, the heat…

Will licked it off and kissed Hannibal harder, rutting against his lap, his hand, _everything_ he could as he worked himself up into a frenzy over something he didn't know he found so _hot_.

Hannibal had never _imagined_ Will would be so aroused by blood, by teeth, and his grinding and rutting made Hannibal's cock throb, heat flaring at the base of his spine, everything squeezing and about to explode.

"Bite-" he commanded. "Again..."

Will worked fingers over Hannibal's shirt to undo it and then bit his collarbone, hard, the snap of skin under his teeth, the faint taste of copper thick in his senses.

Hannibal's head fell back in the chair, and he let his impending orgasm overwhelm him as Will's teeth sank through his skin. He moaned, and gasped, hips arching up beneath Will's body, then squeezed his hand around Will's cock, hard.

Will undid Hannibal's trousers, and slid his hand in, stroking him over and over, slow and hard as he sucked the bit against his skin.

Hannibal gasped, hard, and came almost the second Will's hand touched him, the feeling of Will's hand against him too perfect to resist.

"Will-" he moaned, and used his free hand to keep Will's head right where it was as he stroked him with the other hand, harder and faster.

Will groaned at the feel of Hannibal coming in his hand, and used it to smooth over the head as he rutted into his boyfriend's hand, panting and breathing hard against his shoulder, and finally succumbing to his own need.

Will came into his hand, hard and hot. Hannibal wrapped his free arm around Will's back, and helped him ride it out by stroking him, slowly, as he came in his lap.

Finally, they were both still, and sweating.

"I was not sure you would enjoy biting as much as I enjoy being bitten."

Will huffed out a laugh against Hannibal's neck, and then kissed him slowly. "Neither did I."

Hannibal knew they were a mess, and he had ruined these pants, but at the moment, he didn't mind. He returned the kiss, slowly, and dragged their tongues together before giving Will's lower lip a soft bite, and looking into his eyes.

"The taste of my blood excited you?"

"The taste of you in any form excites me, Doctor," Will murmured against Hannibal's mouth, slowly, groaning with the lasting taste of blood still there.

Hannibal kissed Will again, and shared the taste between their lips with a heavy sigh. "Finding you was the luckiest day of my life..."

Another laugh, but Will was delirious with spent lust and overwhelmed with love. "Mine too. Imagine, I could be walking around with encephalitis still."

"Or worse yet, not walking around with it," Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will, again, holding it.

"Mm," he hummed against Hannibal's mouth, more than aware how _lucky_ he was to find someone who cared so much about him, even if a tiny bit obsessed, Will didn't honestly /see/ that.

Hannibal kissed Will again, and nuzzled his face, slowly. "I'm grateful you were wheeled into my emergency department that night."

"I'm grateful I got stabbed that night," Will teased, resting his forehead against Hannibal's, watching him with a cool blue gaze.

"Meeting me was worth being stabbed?" Hannibal asked with a soft smile in his eyes, and planted kisses down the side of Will's throat.

"You saved me, in more ways than one," Will sighed, head canted back as Hannibal lavished him with kisses.

"You flatter me," Hannibal whispered, and nibbled at Will's earlobe, then kissed the slender, delicate shell of it under his curls.

"I _love_ you," Will whispered, eyes closed as Hannibal kissed his most sensitive spot.

"I love you, too," Hannibal whispered, with a heavy, blissful sigh. "More than I ever imagined I could love anyone."

Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal's shoulders, both of them messy and sticky, but he didn't care. He'd found someone who understood him, and in turn was the same for Hannibal.

Hannibal nuzzled Will, and kissed his lips.

"We should take a bath," Hannibal whispered.

"No food in the oven to worry about?" he asked, more than willing to strip down and soak in the tub with Hannibal for a bit.

"Not at the moment, no," Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will's jaw, then picked him up, and stepped out of his pants, leaving the clothes behind as he carried Will to the bathroom upstairs.

Will almost protested being picked up, but honestly, Hannibal had done this since the day they met, like Will weighed next to nothing at all.

"A nice long soak on a chilly winter's eve is always luxurious." Hannibal pushed the bathroom door open with his foot, and set Will on the edge of the large tub with a kiss.

Will grinned up at him and started the water, removing the rest of his clothes and leaving them in a pile at the edge of the tub. "Sounds nice."

"Shall I get us a little wine?"

"Sure," Will said, touching the water to see that it wasn't too hot, and folded their clothes neatly, just as Hannibal preferred it.

"I'll be right back," Hannibal said, and headed downstairs after starting a crackling fire in the fireplace.

He returned with two glasses of red wine, and handed one to Will before he stopped the bath water.

Will slid in first, holding onto the glass and then moved forward to let Hannibal in behind him.

"What are we drinking tonight?"

"A german shiraz," Hannibal said as he slid into the hot water with a sigh, and wrapped one arm around Will's torso.

Will sipped the inky red drink, and leaned back against Hannibal, between his thighs, one hand rubbing his knee. "It's earthy, but nice."

"I thought it would be a fine selection for enjoying a fire," Hannibal whispered in Will's ear, and brushed some water over Will's shoulder for him.

"Warm like it, easy on the way down," he sighed, a grin on his face as he watched Hannibal out of the corner of his eye and took another sip.

"And just a hint of spice in the aftertaste," Hannibal murmured after smelling and sipping his own wine.

Will smiled at that, he liked Hannibal's palette, even if he couldn't taste quite the same things he did on something. It didn't matter, the wine warmed him through just as much as the bath and Hannibal's arms around him.

"Perfect."

Hannibal kissed Will's skin, just under his ear, and sighed, happily.

"Do you have any holiday traditions?"

"Not really. My dad and I used to go fishing Christmas Eve, if possible. Never caught anything, but we got time together," Will said, drifting a little, he didn't talk about his dad much.

"How does one ice-fish?" Hannibal asked, with bewilderment in his tone.

"On the ice," Will offered, with a little chuckle. "You cut a hole in the ice and sit over it and drop a line in."

"That sounds very cold. How does one know when the conditions are ideal?"

"Preferably not snowing." Will sipped his wine with a little huff. "If you can stand the cold, it's probably okay."

"I see. Did you find that ... enjoyable?" Hannibal asked, and began to spread warm water into Will's hair.

"It's relaxing. Dad would drink... mostly, I'd fish," Will shrugged, another sip, and sat back against Hannibal a little more.

"Do you recall a time when he did not drink?" Hannibal asked, and massaged Will's scalp with some herbal-smelling shampoo.

"No."

Will set the wine glass on the edge of the tub, toying with the stem.

"Then it was not likely something you could change," Hannibal whispered, as his hands moved through Will's curls.

"No. I figured that out a long time ago." It didn't matter how, his father was dead, and that was that. Will spent holidays alone again, until now.

Hannibal kissed the side of Will's cheek, and rubbed his shoulders with lavender soap, then his chest, hugging him. "Did you feel he cared about you?"

"I think he _tried_ ," Will whispered, closing his eyes as Hannibal bathed him, enjoying the feel of his hands. "My mother left when I was too young to remember her. Maybe he blamed me, I don't know."

"Did he ever say why she left?" Hannibal asked in a nearly hypnotic voice, and worked his fingertips against the sleek muscle of Will's chest.

"Nah. He didn't talk about her much at all," Will said, and he didn't either. He didn't even have picture of her. He leaned his head back against Hannibal's shoulder, gazing up at him.

"You are delightful. No matter what her reason for leaving, she missed a chance to know you, which I would say is a monumental loss," Hannibal whispered, honestly.

"Perhaps. Who knows, she might not have been mentally capable," Will suggested, seeing as he had a lot of weird neurotic things himself, it would make sense.

"That is possible," Hannibal nodded, and lathered his hands with soap before he washed Will's stomach, slowly, savoring the feeling of his skin there, then over his hips and thighs.

"Tragic, then."

"Not really. Better to have not known her at all than to have known her and had her leave when I could remember her," Will sighed, relaxed under Hannibal's careful hands.

"That is true," Hannibal nodded, and kissed the back of Will's neck, tenderly, then helped him tip back in the tub to rinse the suds from his hair. "I cannot imagine abandoning you. I feel it is impossible."

Will let his head slip under for a moment to rinse and then gave Hannibal a look back over his shoulder. "You'd never leave me behind?"

Hannibal brushed water through Will's curls, then kissed him, upside down before he helped him back up, and pulled Will's back against his own chest.

"Never, no. Now that I have experienced life with you, life without you would be a poor imitation."

"You say that now as we're still very new into this," Will chuckled, but he had to admit, he'd never been happier. He kissed Hannibal's jaw, gazing back at him.

"I know what I like," Hannibal said, looking down into Will's sea-blue eyes, fondly.

"I am a man of sometimes obsessive passion."

Will rolled his eyes; he already knew Hannibal was obsessive, he saw it in his cooking, his neat house, the way things _had_ to be perfect and elegant.

In Will even.

"I plan to be kept then..." he warned.

Hannibal chuckled, and nodded, then leaned down to press another tender kiss to Will's wet forehead, then his lips. "I plan to keep you."

Will grinned and nuzzled Hannibal's jaw and then his ear with a wet nose.

"I'm going to adopt more dogs..."

"How many more?" Hannibal asked, with a little frown, but worked minty conditioner through Will's hair for him, coating every strand evenly before he rubbed it into his scalp, where it could tingle.

Will just laughed. "I'm teasing you." He would try, of course, in the future, but the ones he had now were more than enough.

Hannibal smiled, knowingly, and shook his head.

"I am certain that you are not teasing me entirely. So long as they are well-behaved, I won't object, within reason. Have you ever considered purchasing a pedigree dog?"

Will gave Hannibal a look at that. "Yeah, but all animals need homes, and the ones I have are strays and would be killed..."

"Ah, I see," Hannibal nodded, and looked over at Poptart, who was sitting with Winston, watching them bathe. "I must admit, I would miss _some_ of them if they were gone. A dog's presence in the home is comforting."

"It is. I like having so many of them. Feels safe." Will shrugged, and dangled long fingers over the side of the tub at Poptart.

Poptart licked the water off, happily, then stood on her hind legs to sniff at Hannibal's glass of wine.

"No, no," he chided, and took a sip, then put it out of her reach.

Will smiled at her, and gave her a wet pet, and then took up his own wine again. He leaned in to Hannibal's chest, curls not wet and against his head. "Thank you for putting up with me and the dogs."

Hannibal rested his own head on top of Will's, and closed his eyes with a happy sigh. "The dogs require some patience, you do not. I am fortunate to have you, Will. I feel I have found someone with whom I belong."

Will offered Hannibal a little smile, closing his eyes.

"Good to know..."

Hannibal closed his arms around Will after setting his glass down, and reveled in the feeling of simply holding him in the hot, fragrant water.

"When are your classes dismissed for the holidays?"

"Next Friday," Will said, letting himself relax for once, something only Hannibal had ever really gotten him to do outside of fishing.

Hannibal kneaded Will's shoulders, and encouraged him to lean back, and relax. He kissed the side of Will's neck, reveling in his vulnerability. "Lovely. After that, I'll have you all to myself."

"For three weeks or so," Will stated, leaning his head back to look up Hannibal.

"A vacation in itself," Hannibal whispered, with a smile down at Will. "I cannot wait," Hannibal said, genuinely.

"What of you? Surely you have patients set to come see you soon," Will asked, not sure how they would handle _that_.

"In the new year, yes, I've received a few referrals and have some appointments scheduled. I have no doubt my days will be full soon enough," Hannibal said, and smiled. "A far more easy-going life than that of a surgeon."

"No less stressing, I would guess, though," Will said, sure that listening to people and their issues all day couldn't be easy.

"It is a different sort of stress, I suppose, not more or less. The contents of the mind are just as fragile and easily damaged as the brain that creates them, if not more," Hannibal said, eloquently.

"Far less physical for you, but I bet we'll both need this de-stressing moment once a week," Will said, gesturing his head to the bath. Something to ground them to each other after a long week.

"If not more," Hannibal suggested, and hugged Will to him with one arm, then kissed his shoulder, adoringly.

"And I will be called away in the middle of the night much, much less often."

Will smiled at that, squeezing back as far into Hannibal's embrace as he could manage, his cheek against his."So what will we do on our mini vacation over the holidays?"

"How attached are you to having snow on the ground for Christmas?" Hannibal asked, in an almost teasing tone.

Will was from Louisiana, they didn't always have snow, it fell sometimes, in droves, but it wasn't always there, not like in Maryland and Virginia. "I guess we don't have to stay here..."

"How would you feel about a Christmas abroad, if we could take the dogs?" Hannibal asked, well aware Will would never be happy leaving his dogs behind like this.

"You want to take all seven of them?" he chuckled, not sure that was the best or wisest plan of action. Not to mention expensive.

"There are alternatives to flying coach," Hannibal said with a small kiss to Will's ear. "Perhaps a nice sailboat, sizable enough that the dogs can have freedom of movement. We could drive to a port from which it is possible to sail on the unfrozen ocean in comfort, and head somewhere beautiful."

He stroked his hand over Will's chest, then rested his palm over Will's heart, able to feel changes in speed. "Now if _only_ I had a sailor," he said, flirtatiously.

"It would take us weeks to sail abroad anywhere, Hannibal," he said, not wanting to dash his dreams so soon, but it wasn't really possible from here. "Unless you had a port in Florida and we drove there, and sailed south a bit. Not far."

"I could arrange for that," Hannibal said, softly, and tucked Will's hair back behind his ear, admiring the flush that the hot water gave his pale skin.

Will smiled and leaned into Hannibal's touch, supposing he could do Christmas without the snow and cold anyway.

"Okay."

"I'll look into it, immediately, and whisk you off the second that you are finished classes on the weekend," Hannibal promised.

"I'd like that." Will slumped into Hannibal's arms to more of his body in the water as it grew cold around them.

"So would I," Hannibal said, with a hug around Will, and leaned forward to drain the tub. "More hot water, or are you ready to climb out?"

Will looked at his hands, wrinkled and white. "I think getting out, before I turn into a prune."

"A delicious prune, sweet to the tongue," Hannibal whispered, and moved Will's hand to his lips, kissing it. "But yes, I agree."

Will smiled as Hannibal all but nibble his fingers, and then stood, grabbing them towels from the rack by the tub. "You would attempt to eat me?"

"Not if it meant depriving myself of your company," Hannibal whispered, and looked Will over before he stood, and took one of the towels, drying Will's hair for him.

Will blushed at the way Hannibal look him over, appreciative as always, and then looked up at him from under the towel, with floppy wet, drying curls. "I feel safer already."

"As you should," Hannibal murmured, and dried his curls, then moved the thick, expensive cotton over Will's back and shoulders, down his body, then up his arms.

Will hugged Hannibal as he dried him off, utterly adored, and he knew it. Someone somewhere thought Will Graham needed Hannibal Lecter. "And I do."

Beyond the wonder that Will did not find Hannibal's eating habits distasteful was something Hannibal found _more_ fascinating: the feeling of being understood, finally, and comfortable. It was something he had never had before.

He wrapped the towel around Will's hips, then dried himself off, slowly, letting Will look at him as he did so. "Hungry?"

Will watched Hannibal with the same appreciation and hunger than Hannibal had to him.  He didn't mind the eating habits, he didn't know all the ins and outs, and as far as things went, it was easy this way to keep people _off_ Hannibal if he got found out someday.

"Starved."

"I have a roast in the oven, it should be done just about now," Hannibal said, with a look at a mother-of-pearl clock on the marble countertop of the bathroom, then wrapped in hips with a towel, slowly.

"I thought you said there was nothing cooking?" Will chuckled, reaching to help Hannibal with his towel, a coy look in his eyes.

"Well, it was roasting at only a hundred degrees or so. I find meat roasted overnight at a very low temperature is much more luxuriously flavored than one procured by a faster method."

Burning it at this stage is not possible.

"Oh." Will stepped out and then waited for Hannibal before heading to /their/ bedroom, to find a robe, in for the evening.

Hannibal followed Will, admiring his back muscles as they stepped into the bedroom.

Buster stopped rolling on the bed, immediately, with a guilty look, and jumped down.

"How sly."

"He's always done that," Will sighed, and whistled for him to get down, and then shed his towel to get the robe from the back of the door, around Hannibal.

Buster wiggled at Will, and went to lay on his bed near the other fireplace while Hannibal chuckled, and brought Will his own robe, black and elegant.

"Here, it's very warm," Hannibal said, as he helped Will into it, and smoothed it's heavy darkness over his shoulders."

"And what of you? Dressing in a suit for dinner while I sit around in this..." Will looked at it, guessing, "Cashmere? Robe."

"Cashmere and velvet," Hannibal said with a smile, and walked around Will to tie the sash around his narrow waist.

"For an intimate dinner for two, I would hardly object."

"You could stay in your towel," Will said, slipping fingers between it and Hannibal's skin with a sly smile.

"A towel?" Hannibal laughed, and stepped closer to Will, charmed, and flushing as Will threatened to undress him.

Canting his head up, Will met Hannibal's lips, but just barely, and smiled. "Or nothing."

Hannibal chuckled, and kissed Will's soft lips. "I must admit, I have never been nude during dinner before."

"Would you find it rude? Distasteful?" Will asked, delighted and flushed from the very thought of seeing Hannibal naked at his own dinner table.

"With you? No. I would find the act .... intimate," Hannibal said, with another kiss, and a tug at the belt of the house coat.

"Together?" Will raised his brow, Hannibal offering a on up to the little game.

"I promise to keep the room pleasantly warm," Hannibal whispered, and undid the belt, slowly, then opened the robe and touched Will's chest.

"We will never get to the dining room," he whispered back, soft against Hannibal's mouth with barely there flutters of his lips.

"If we ever get to the dining room, indeed," Hannibal laughed, and kissed Will deeply again as he ran his hands over Will's graceful body under the robe.

"Would hate for you to go hungry and resort to eating me," Will groaned between their mouths, touching Hannibal's chest.

Hannibal guided Will back, slowly, toward the door with more kisses.

"I adore absorbing the _perfect_ by eating it, however, I do abhor the senseless destruction of beauty and art," Hannibal reasoned.

"Mmm," Will hummed, touching the door behind him, not sure if he should shut it or continue to let Hannibal guide him out.

Hannibal led Will out of the bedroom, distracting him with kiss after kiss, then swept him up in his arms and carried him downstairs again, the long black robe hanging like a cloak.

Will grasped on to Hannibal, always surprised at his strength, but Will wasn't a large man either. "Hannibal!"

"I enjoy the feeling of you in my arms," Hannibal said, with pride.

He carried Will into the azure dining room, and set him down, on one of the finely made chairs.

"Dinner it is then," he said, gazing up at Hannibal from where he sat him down, leaning on the table now with his elbows.

The robe draped over the chair around Will, setting off his pale skin, dramatically. Hannibal admired him for a moment, and touched his chin before he found matches on the mantle, and started a fire in the fireplace, then lit candles around the room, which let Will see every curve and line of muscle in his body.

Will sighed, happily, watching Hannibal in the nude, aware that he, perhaps, enjoyed being like this.

"I could watch you all day..."

Hannibal looked back at Will, with admiration in his eyes, which looked amber in the candle light.

"Perhaps we shall do this more often," Hannibal said, and sauntered into the kitchen, then returned with two more glasses of wine, and set them on the table, one just in front of Will's hand.

Will took the wine, still admiring Hannibal, and grinned at him as he took a sip. "Our little once a week date night?"

"A long soak in the tub, followed by an intimate dinner?" Hannibal asked with an arch to his eyebrow, then strode back into the kitchen, as effortlessly confident naked as he was in a three piece suit.

He returned with a large tray in hand that held the succulent roast, surrounded by roasted vegetables in artistic designs, and two more side dishes.

"Fragrant saffron pilaf, a fresh mixture of greens and beets with chevre and walnuts, drizzled with a balsamic dressing, and of course, the roast."

After setting the food on the table, Hannibal set two plates that had been hiding under the main course on the table, then napkins and cutlery.

Will stood to smell it a little better, taking in the sight of it all, and then at Hannibal, just elegant in his nakedness. "It looks wonderful..." Everything Hannibal made was, of course, wonderful.

"Thank you," Hannibal said, and looked back at Will before he topped up their wine from the bottle, and sat down across from Will. "I admit, I am rather comfortable like this."

"I thought you would be," Will said, taking one more sip and then moved to serve himself some dinner, too starved to pass it up, especially if dessert was going to be his boyfriend.

Hannibal smiled, and did the same with a shine in his eyes.

"It is lovely to be able to be so unguarded with someone, so _bare_ and honest," he murmured, and served himself, elegantly.

"No suits or veils between us," Will noted, and sat back, letting the robe hand off him gently, over his shoulder and down one side as he ate.

"No false identities," Hannibal whispered, watching Will. He sipped his wine, and let his bare leg touched Will's beneath the table as he cut a piece of the roast, juicy and hot, then tried it.

"Promise?" Will cut into his own meat and placed it slowly into his mouth, chewing it at the same pace.

"Oh, a few surprises, of course, but ... honesty about what we are..." Hannibal watched Will chew, fondness in his eyes.

Will's brows wrinkled a little at the 'surprises' bit, and watched Hannibal carefully. "Always."

Hannibal hummed around the meat in his mouth, and chewed, slowly, then swallowed. "Decadent, the slow roast was well worth the wait."

"What -- or Who-- are we eating?" Will asked, nonchalantly, and put another piece into his mouth, and chewed it slowly, watching Hannibal to see what he did. They did not talk about it often, if at all, since the first time.

Hannibal tilted his head at Will when he asked, and smiled just a little at his openness. "A florist who was exceptionally rude, not to mention arrogant," he said, factually.

Will sucked his teeth behind closed lips, but continued to eat. Not the first nor the last person they would eat, that _he_ would eat, he was sure of that. "I can't say much, but this Minnesota Shrike, I think he's eating people."

Hannibal stopped chewing and arched an eyebrow, his curiosity peaking. "You don't say. Is this at all connected to the disappearance of those girls, whom you mentioned?"

Will nodded with another bite, chewing for a moment, leaning into his hands.

"Yeah. I mean it's not... it's... not on the record yet, I haven't told Jack that's what I think is happening, but from the flies..."

"What precisely makes you believe he's consuming the girls? Why?" Hannibal asked, and cut another bite of the excellent roast.

"It's the same sort of... disappearing act when he takes them. Lured in, and then nothing is found of them. He's using every part." Will was /good/ at putting a scene back together with pictures, he could be off here without seeing the scene it self. "The scene Jack wants me to go to is of a girl who went missing and then was put back, the first yet... the body was moved here for investigation."

His phone he left on the counter rang just then, and he looked at it, but didn't go to answer it.

Hannibal looked back at the phone, then at Will. "Might that be about the case?" he asked with a soft sigh, beginning to resent the interruption this shrike was placing into their special dinner.

"Yes, but it can wait, just as they have made me wait to find a shrink," Will said, giving a Hannibal a 'sorry' look after saying the word he knew he hated.

Hannibal's lips quirked to the side in a small frown at the disdained word. He sighed, and straightened in his chair, and sipped his wine. "Have you broached the subject with them?"

"I just found out today that you were capable, so not yet. I'll let Jack know when I call him back." Things were now timid, and Will sipped his wine, trying to avoid Hannibal's hardened gaze at him.

"Very well," Hannibal said, with a nod, and watched Will, closely. "When you are summoned to view this new killer's work, you will tell me, of course?"

Will nodded, and began to eat again, the mood in the room entirely spoiled now. He had no idea Hannibal would react so direly. "You know I will. It'd be a trip out of state."

Hannibal was a man of delicate balances, and hearing Will's attention taken by this new killer was ... well, uncomfortable. "He leaves nothing, you say? Nothing at all?"

"Not that we have found. The one girl was put back after being taken and killed. That's why I'm being called in, Jack wants my input," Will explained, toying with his food with his fork.

"Why would he return her?" Hannibal asked, thoughtfully, and watched Will as he feigned interest in the meal.

"The meat was bad," Will said quietly, as the realization dawned on him, that if the man was taking girls and eating them, the only reason not to eat one and to /return/ her was if she could not be be eaten, if she were _sick_.

"She was ill, and he could not tell before he had taken her?" Hannibal tutted, and sipped his wine, as though he had caught an /amateur/ mistake.

"It would be something not entirely noticeable unless you were looking for it," Will said, taking his wine to sip on it as well, and then forked in some of dish in front of him, feeling Hannibal grow agitated.

"Hm. Something subtle, some sort of cancer, perhaps?" Hannibal mused, and sighed. "Most people are unable to smell it."

"Most," Will said, a little amused at how Hannibal was acting, as though this killer were some sort of... competition.

"How do you imagine him? A simple man? Tormented?" Hannibal asked, with a cool arch of his eyebrow.

"Handy. Simple. He has a daughter, around the age and looks of the girls missing,” Will explained. "Not someone you'd expect."

"And he's killing these girls, eating them out of love for his daughter?" Hannibal asked, as intrigued by Will's thought-process as he was jealous of the new focus of Will's interest.

"Because he can't eat his daughter, and she's... leaving him, for college," Will realized, sitting there, hands in his lap now.

"Fantasizing about eating her, consuming her is a way to keep her, forever," Hannibal said, softly, and looked down into his wine. "The threatened loss of a loved one leads one to do dire things."

"You sound like you know from experience," Will said softly, moving from his seat to go sit himself in Hannibal's naked lap.

"I do," Hannibal sighed, and looked up at Will with a sad look in his dark eyes, a frown lingering on his lips. "Have I ever told you of my sister?"

Will wrapped his arm around Hannibal's shoulders, settling in against his lap with the plush robe. "No, you haven't."

Hannibal took a deep breath, and held it for a moment, his ashy, light hair sweeping over one eye. "Her name was Mischa. I raised her."

"Was," Will repeated, quietly, and moved some of Hannibal's hair for him, his full attention on him now.

"Was," Hannibal nodded, and suddenly looked alarmingly vulnerable when he opened his lips to speak, but nothing came _out_ , his eyes cast down, on the knife that laid next to his china.

Will rested his head against Hannibal's, just breathing with him, hand over his heart. There was nothing to say honestly, but Will was there if he wanted to talk.

Hannibal closed his eyes, and wrapped one arm around Will's body, then opened his eyes, leaving the dark, sunken pits of memory in his memory palace behind. "She was very young when she was killed, only a girl."

"Much younger than you?" Will asked, combing hand through Hannibal's soft hair.

"By twelve years," Hannibal nodded, and took a deeper breath, then looked at Will, focusing on him, his closeness, the warmth of his skin, the soft freckles that could barely be seen in candlelight.

"I was nineteen, she only seven. She was bright, happy, full of mischief and ... life. She adored me, and fireflies."

"She would have loved Louisiana," Will stated, softly, against Hannibal's temple, only too happy to learn something _new_ about him.

Hannibal blinked, and looked at Will, with some surprise, like he was re-orienting himself to reality, and began to unthaw, so to speak. "Are there many fire flies there?"

"Many. They love the bayous. At night it can be very magical out there, all fog from the swamps and lights flittering around."

"I would love to see that, someday," Hannibal whispered, and turned his head to smell Will's freshly cleaned hair. "I come from a land of field and mountain, nothing quite as mysterious as a bayou."

"I'll take you someday," Will promised, nuzzling back against Hannibal, all too glad to let their conversation drift for now

"What are the bayous like in the winter? Is there ... frost?" Hannibal asked, for once, clueless about a topic, looking to Will to inform him.

"No, not really. It's quite nice there, actually," Will explained.

Hannibal wound a strand of Will's hair around his index finger, like a ring of polished ebony wood, then kissed Will's cheek. He was appeased by Will's efforts to cheer him, unable to sustain the jealous feeling that had brewed inside him before when Will was so close. "Perhaps you could take me home for the holidays, show me your city."

"Instead of sailing?" Will asked, a hand on Hannibal's bare chest, he dropped the robe all together and curled up on his lap.

"Simply an idea," Hannibal murmured, and smiled a little when Will dropped the robe completely. He leaned closer, and planted a kiss on Will's bare, beautiful shoulder.

"I would like to do either one. I'll let you decide," Will said, and turning his head to look at Hannibal close up. "Still mad at me?"

Hannibal stroked his fingers along the slope of Will's jaw, gently, and smiled at him, indulgently. "I was never angry to begin with," he whispered, and leaned closer to give Will a soft kiss.

Perhaps not angry or mad, but he was... upset to an extent. Will let it go, however, and tipping his head to deepen the kiss.

Jealous, and irritated, of course. Hannibal's _anger_ was a much icier sight to behold, and usually ended with blood splatter.

Hannibal kissed back, able to taste wine and roast on Will's lips. He hummed with a little smile, and kissed Will more deeply, both arms around his slender back. "Is New Orleans a place one might have a nice meal?"

"New Orleans is full of fine food fare," Will whispered, smirking against Hannibal's mouth.

Hannibal smirked back. "My sort of fine, or your sort of fine?" he teased, softly, and tightened his grip on Will, as though afraid he might bolt.

"I hope you'll like some of it. Some is very French infused," he explained, making a little noise as Hannibal squeezed him.

Hannibal relaxed his grip on Will, and rested their faces together.

"Perhaps Christmas in New Orleans would be refreshing," Hannibal murmured, and offered Will a sip from his own wine glass. "We could sail more extensively when we have a longer break."

"Summer," Will said, and took a sip, a long one, savoring it, and then handed it back to Hannibal, licking a bead of wine from his own lip.

"Summer," Hannibal agreed, and kissed the wine off of Will's lips for him, slowly, cherishing every moment they were connected. "Much better sailing conditions, I'm sure."

"Much." Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal's shoulders and moved to straddle him again, hip to hip.

"I will make the ... necessary arrangements," Hannibal whispered, and ran his hands over Will's bare thighs, staring at him. "You are quite distracting."

"Distracting from what?" Will asked, coyly, and kissed him slowly, and then took another sip of wine, to share.

"From everything in the world that is not you," Hannibal whispered as he _gazed_ up at Will, the light of his life. "You are the wheat, everything else is chaff, blown away in a strong wind."

"You already have me sprawled naked in your lap, no need to get soft," Will chuckled, but still flushed from Hannibal's words.

Hannibal rolled his hips up, under Will, and smirked again. "There is nothing soft here."

Will hummed, and blushed harder. "Not _now_."

Hannibal leaned closer, and kissed the underside of Will's jaw, then his lips, sucking on them, softly. "That is your effect on me."

"Are you still my dessert?" Will whispered, head tilted back to let Hannibal kiss there, and then pressed his mouth to his, hands resting on his neck, feeling his pulse.

"Every inch," Hannibal promised with a kiss. He tilted his head, and locked their lips together, deep and hard, then sucked Will's tongue, like he was sampling the flavour of it before he devoured it.

Will groaned, long legs down the sides of the chair of either side of Hannibal, toes that barely touched the ground, curling as he was kissed like that. Hannibal pulled Will closer, by his thighs, hands running up to his ass to squeeze and stroke at Will's taut flesh.

He pulled Will so that his cock brushed the cleft of Will's ass, slowly, teasing him with the possibility.

"Hannibal-" Will sighed into his mouth, against his lips, eyes hooded as he gazed at him, hips worked forward even without Hannibal's help, hard against his stomach.

Hannibal had never felt so intimately connected with anyone, regardless of what their bodies were doing. His deft hands made their way down Will's spine, counting each vertebral bump, then began to tease Will's cock with feathery touches from his finger tips.

"Will..."

"Tease," Will groaned, his whole body moving at once to be touched, to be loved, needing. He kissed Hannibal again and again, slow and long, and in between.

"Do you want me to stop?" Hannibal whispered, alluringly, then turned his head to bite Will's earlobe.

"No," Will whispered back, leaning into Hannibal's mouth, goosebumps over his flesh.

"If only I were slick," Hannibal whispered into Will's ear as he stroked him, keeping Will against his own flexing stomach as they continued to rub up against one another.

Will kissed him one more time and then slunk between Hannibal and the table, between his legs, and wrapped his mouth around his cock, lathing his tongue over the head.

Hannibal's jaw dropped, and his thighs spread as he leaned back in the dining chair, toes curling against the expensive rug.

"Yes," he shuddered out, and gazed down at Will so intensely it was nearly a glare as he threaded his hand through Will's hair.

Will took him down, having been doing this for months now, he was used to the choking sensation, and even craved it as he gulped and licked, sucking Hannibal to the hilt.

Hannibal had had countless lovers during the course of his life, but _none_ could undo him as utterly and intensely as Will, like every stroke of his tongue felt like it was fanning a fire that burned deep inside him.

"Will-" he whispered, breathlessly, and tugged hard on Will's curls, and admired his blush.

Grunting into the tug, Will took Hannibal down further, thoroughly wetting his perfect cock, and then pulled off with a 'pop', panting, licking his lips.

"Beautiful boy ..." Hannibal purred, and thumbed Will's red, pouty lips before he pulled him back into his lap for a hard kiss.

He stood, and swept everything off of the dining table with one hand, letting it all crash against the floor. He laid Will on the table, and pushed his cock into him, immediately, unable to wait a second longer.

Will's eyes widened, and then rolled into the back of his head, tensing a little as Hannibal didn't prepare him at all, but then relaxed into it.

"God, Hannibal-"

Will was tight, and _warm_ , lovely in every way as Hannibal breached his body.  "Perfection," he whispered, with deep meaning in his voice, and ground his hips forward, slowly, but with a savage sort of strength to it.

"Please," Will begged, and for what he didn't know yet, but Hannibal always brought out this pleading for more. He gripped his shoulders tightly, legs around his hips.

Hannibal guided Will's ass just over the edge of the polished table, and gripped the supple flesh with both palms as he rutted into Will, hard and fast, no teasing, no build-up, they were already there.

The table shifted and rocked under them, and another wine glass fell off the edge, shattering on the floor as Hannibal took Will with brutal strength.

It almost felt punishing at this rate, but Will couldn't be bothered with it, his prostate abused over and over again, writhing under Hannibal as he gripped his arms, tugging him in further.

Hannibal's teeth and lips scratched out patterns on Will's chest and stomach, biting a nipple, then scraping against white skin.

"Will-" he repeated over and over, and slapped his large palm against Will's ass where it hung over the edge of the table.

Writhing, Will groaned pants into the air, breath hitching as Hannibal _spanked_  him, making him want to turn over for _more_. "God-"

Hannibal could feel how much Will responded to that, and did it again, a harder, more stinging slap against his ass-cheek.

"There? Yes?" Hannibal panted in Will's ear, devilishly.

Will writhed again, never knowing he would like _that_ . "Again," he groaned, all but trying to turn _over_ to let Hannibal do it _right_.

Hannibal seemed to read Will's mind, and pulled his cock out, then flipped Will over on the table, like he weighed nothing.  He let him stand, but pressed one hand down on Will's back to push his chest into the lacquered surface.

"Spread your thighs for me, ass in the air," Hannibal commanded, and rewarded Will's arched ass with a hard smack that echoed in the room.

"Harder..."

Hannibal smirked down at Will, every propensity he had for dominance out and on display now as he made Will _wait_ for it. "Harder, _sir_..." he whispered, and smoothed his hand over Will's cheek.

Will whined a little, his blue eyes bright against flushed skin, dignity all but on the table, trusting Hannibal not to play with fire. "Sir."

 _SLAP_.

Hannibal's hand connected with Will's ass, sharply, and the sound rang through the air. It no doubt sent a throbbing sting down to Will's thighs.

"You are beautiful when you are obedient," Hannibal whispered, and entered Will again.

Will’s eyes went wide as he gripped the table, or tried to, fingers slipping and looking straight ahead as Hannibal started to fuck him again.

Hannibal pressed himself in, slowly, and rubbed his palm over Will's unspanked cheek, tauntingly.

"I had no idea you enjoyed the sensation of being disciplined in the bedroom," Hannibal whispered, and pressed himself against Will's prostate.

"I didn't either," Will confessed, though he wondered if Hannibal might take it a little _too_ far. Still, he wasn't _un_ happy about the situation.

Hannibal was a brutal man, but he was also wonderfully attuned to Will: to his breathing, his heart rate, the flush of his skin, every small sign of his pleasure was writ large to Hannibal's keen senses.

"And yet, you seem to crave the sting of my palm against that perfectly round behind of yours," Hannibal whispered, and slapped Will's white ass-cheek while he began to move inside him.

Will groaned at the last slap, the way Hannibal felt inside him, moving against that bundle of nerves, making him writhe and grasp for purchase.

"Beautiful," Hannibal praised, breathlessly as he moved inside WIll, the canting of his hips growing sharper and stronger with every thrust.

"Hannibal-" Will groaned into the table top, writhing down on his cock harder.

Hannibal slapped Will's ass again, twice in a row, spanking him sharply as he fucked him against the edge of the expensive table, the dining room in ruin now. "Are you about ... to ruin my table?" Hannibal gasped, breathless.

"Yes, Hannibal Please," the brunet begged, feeling the swell of orgasm impending against him with each spank, with each thrust.

Hannibal gripped one shoulder and one of Will's hips, and used them to pull Will's beautiful body back, against him as he hammered his cock into Will's prostate, almost punishingly. "Will-" Hannibal gasped, and muttered a few words in another language.

 

Will's eyes squeezed shut as he started to come, his cock never even having to be touched, he was reeling so hard, falling into mind of lust, feeling his and Hannibal's both.

Hannibal tumbled over the edge with Will, gasping and panting as his vision burned white-hot. The tall, ashy-haired man leaned over Will again, shaking hard, utterly _spent_ now as they rested together against the table amongst the shattered plates and food.

Will hummed, bruised, spent and in utter bliss. "I never get tired of that..."

"Neither do I," Hannibal whispered, and kissed the back of Will's neck again with a heavy sigh, then hugged him tightly, and looked down at his reddened ass. "You are alright?"

"I don't know if I'll sit for a while, but alright," Will huffed, and looked back at Hannibal.

"I will serve you breakfast in bed as you as you require it," Hannibal promised sweetly, and bit the round of Will's ear, gently, then straightened, and sat in his chair, pulling Will into his lap.

"I have class in the morning..." Luckily not a lot of sitting done during. He sat on Hannibal's lap with a little wince.

"I'm willing to accompany you, and offer my lap," Hannibal smirked, spreading his thighs a little so that Will's sore flesh was not bruised further.

Will groaned. "That would give them all something to talk about, wouldn't it?"

Hannibal chuckled, and tipped Will's face up with one finger beneath his chin, then kissed him. "Perhaps you slipped on some ice and took a tumble downstairs..."

"Perhaps I did," Will whispered, fondly, looking at Hannibal as their lips meshed together, both of them sweaty.

"It seems another bath will be in order," Hannibal chuckled, and picked Will up in his arms, then looked at the dinner their passion destroyed. "I will clean up the wreckage in a moment."


	7. Chapter 7

**[text: Will]** Jack Crawford wants to interview you about being my 'therapist'. I have to fly to Minnesota tonight, he said you can come, and he'll observe how we work together.

 **[text: Hannibal]** Very well. Do you have tickets arranged?

 **[text: Will]** Yes. We should only be overnight. A friend is taking over teaching my class for me tomorrow.

 **[text: Hannibal]** Friend?

 **[text: Will]** Alana Bloom. She's a Psychiatrist for the FBI. she refused to analyze me.

 **[text: Hannibal]** Ah. Dr. Bloom. I mentored her, briefly.

 **[text: Will]** You did?

 **[text: Hannibal]** Yes, when she was a medical student.

 **[text: Hannibal]** It was probably on her good word you got in good with Crawford then.

 **[text: Will]** Driving home.

 **[text: Hannibal]** We shall see you soon, shall I pack a bag for you?

 **[text: Will]** Please.

 **[text: Hannibal]** What of the dogs?

 **[text: Will]** Alana said she would be by to feed them.

 **[text: Hannibal]** Very well.

***

Will arrived a few minutes later, apparent that he had been texting and driving, though against the law technically, he had been using the headset, as Alana had been showing him to do.

"Ready?" he called out, greeting all the dogs as they came to meet him at the door. "Hey guys..."

All of the dogs, but Poptart met Will at the door with bright eyes and wagging tails. Hannibal appeared at the top of the stairs, with one suitcase slung over his shoulder, one in hand, and another small, expensive, leather carrier over his shoulder.

"We are ready."

"We?" Will asked, raising his brow toward Hannibal when he saw /two/ suit cases and the carrier. He counted the dogs quickly, and sighed, knowingly.

"We're going to be gone a day, Hannibal..."

"One never knows what one may need on a short trip," Hannibal said, as he descended the stairs, gracefully. Poptart looked out at Will from her place in the comfortable carrier, surrounded by a fur blanket on all sides, nestled in.

Will wiggled his fingers at her and she panted back with a little bark.

"Alright," he said, rolling his eyes a little as he fed treats to the others and talked to them a bit about Alana coming by, and then opened the door for Hannibal.

Hannibal pet Winston's head, and stepped outside with Will, looking as well-dressed as though he were about to catch a flight to Paris, not Minnesota. "What city will be fly to? Do we have hotel reservations?"

"Minneapolis, but we'll have to drive some ways to the suburbs, it's an outskirt town," Will explained, and let Hannibal lead them to the Bentley, not his own car, knowing he'd want to drive. "We do."

Hannibal set the bags in the trunk, and opened Will's door for him, then set Poptart on his lap in the carrier before he closed the door once Will was in, and went around to start the luxurious car. "Might I ask where?"

Will talked to Poptart and then looked at Hannibal when he was in the car again, buckling up.

"It's a hotel, I had to spend my own money to upgrade, as Jack wasn't splurging for anything nice. You're welcome."

Hannibal smiled a little at Will, and backed out of the long driveway, then onto the road, headed for the airport. "Thank you, Will. Very kind."

"I knew you would insist we stay somewhere else when you saw it," Will sighed, canting his head at his boyfriend for a moment, and then watched the street lights blink on as the sunset around them.

"That terrible, is it?" Hannibal asked with a chuckle, and reached over to take Will's hand with his own as they drove, and Poptart snuggled into the ermine blankets to nap.

Will just rolled his eyes again and then, let them drift closed for a bit as they drove. He woke with a start when they got there, Hannibal already getting the bags from the trunk. He pushed the door open, Poptart's carrier in one hand.

It was snowing, very lightly, and chilly, but not terribly cold. Hannibal offered Will his arm as they walked toward the airport.

"Did you have a nice nap?"

"Yeah, sorry..." Will sighed, taking Hannibal's arm. They shifted through the line to check in their bags, and then through security.

"Don't be," Hannibal said, politely, and gave Will a curious look as they checked in. "Are you feeling ill?"

Will shook his head, frowning a little. “No. Just tired. Between lectures and Crawford..."

Security let Hannibal through, almost immediately, and scanned Will over, then let him go, too, with Poptart.

"The holidays will be a welcome reprieve, in that case," Hannibal said, and took Poptart's carrier to put over his own shoulder, so Will could walk a little more lightly.

Will was fine, of course, and got through security just as Hannibal, and they made their way to the waiting area for their flight.

"It will be."

"I am eager to meet Jack, eager to see if he is as I imagine him to be," Hannibal said, with a faint smile on his face, almost hidden, but not quite.

"You mean as awful as I make him out to be?" Will laughed, shaking his head. "He's very abrasive."

"I imagine he is a commanding man, used to getting his way, used to not only taking the bull by the horns, but _being_ the proverbial bull, himself," Hannibal said, and thought of Miriam, of course.

She would be just fine.

Will gave Hannibal a look as he said that, eyes narrowed a bit, but then nodded.

"Pretty much. But I guess he has to be for the job."

"What is your impression of Mr. Crawford?" Hannibal asked, as they took seats in the terminal, near the gate from which their plane would depart, soon, it seemed.

"Jack is... he's a good man, he's trying to save people. That's what I want to do. Save people." Will shrugged his slim shoulders, and looked at Hannibal.

"A noble intent," Hannibal nodded, and looked at Will, almost analytically. "Save them, from what?"

"Whatever I can. Hopefully I can save more girls by going to look at this crime scene. Figure it out."

"Before he strikes again..." Hannibal sighed, and looked out the window onto the dull gray and black landscape of the tarmacs now that the sun had set. 

A few white flakes continued to fall, fluttering down.

"Have you ever wanted a family, Will?"

"Every since I was little. I always thought having a sibling growing up, maybe I wouldn't be so lonely..." Will cracked his jaw, watching as their plane landed and people got off the flight.

"How many children do you imagine yourself having?" Hannibal asked, with a soft, honey-colored light in his eyes as he gazed at his boyfriend.

"Oh, you're serious?" Will flushed a little. "I don't know. We're not exactly compatible like that, Hannibal..."

Hannibal laughed, long and hard, the way only Will could make him laugh, then shook his head.

"I ... must agree, we are not. All the same, I am curious about how you envision your ideal life, if _anything_ were possible."

The gate opened, and they were waved forward, to approach the plane.

Will got out their passes, and as they filed into line, he gave it a lot of thought. "I haven't really considered an ideal life, I guess. This is as good as it's ever been."

Hannibal gave another chuckle, and handed the flight attendant his pass, then smiled before he walked through, and waited for Will to join him. "You never permitted yourself to dream?"

They let Will pass, too, and followed after Hannibal to catch up. "Yes, well... no. I mean, I don't like disappointment. I rather live with what I know I have, what is real and what is not out of reach."

"Spoken like one who has been disappointed, many times," Hannibal murmured, and reached into the carrier to stroke Poptart's head as she stirred when she heard the plane engine.

Will shrugged, hands in his pockets now as they boarded the plane, and were shown their seats. Couch, unfortunately for Hannibal, was all Will could afford on short notice.

Hannibal found their seats, without complaint, and gestured to allow Will to slide in first.

"Would you care for the window seat?"

Another shrug, and Will slid in past Hannibal, sat down, and buckled up. He took the carrier from him so Hannibal could sit and get situated.

Hannibal took the narrow seat in the center, and tilted his head to look at Poptart through the fine mesh.

"I admit, I once wanted a family. After my sister passed, I had put those thoughts away, for a very long time."

"You wouldn't want to create another one, something you had control of?" Will asked, letting Hannibal lead the conversation with his own dreams, not Will's.

"Perhaps," Hannibal considered, as he crossed his long legs, and frowned at the cramped space in which he had to do so. "But the ideal partner has not presented himself ... until recently."

Will canted his head; they hardly talked this seriously, but they _did_ live together after only a month of knowing each other. They were vacationing together, they shared pets now...

"What's changed?"

Hannibal looked over at Will, with warmth in his eyes. "My luck."

Will smiled at that and leaned his head back on the rest, looking at Hannibal with nothing but love. "Hopefully your luck keeps up."

Hannibal gazed back at the look in Will's eyes, and took his hand. "I'm certain it will, so long as you are with me," he said, smoothly.

Will smoothed his palm over Hannibal's, slowly, and watched him with sea blue eyes. "I have no plans to go anywhere."

Hannibal raised Will's hand, and kissed his knuckles gallantly.

"You may go wherever you like, so long as I may come with you ... or that you are not away long. The dogs and I would pine."

"Where would I go?" Will asked, a chuckle on his breath as the plane started to make it ascent on the tarmac.

"Back to Wolf Trap? Away on an investigation, perhaps?" Hannibal mused, and looked at Will's hand, realizing just how empty the house would seem overnight without him there.

"I asked you to come with me, didn't I?" Will smiled at him, and leaned his head on his shoulder.

"You did," Hannibal smiled, and squeezed Will's hand while he rested his own head against Will's with a content expression.

A man passed them, and snorted, wearing a ballcap with a Confederate flag on the front.

Will glared daggers at the man, squeezing Hannibal's hand, knowing he'd get more upset by it, he'd _do_ something about it.

Hannibal locked eyes with the man, but did nothing more than raise an eyebrow at him as he waddled back to his seat.

"Narrow seats for narrow minds," he chuckled.

"Apparently."

Will kissed Hannibal's cheek, and settled with Poptart on his lap, still laughing that _Hannibal_ brought her with them.

"What is so amusing?" Hannibal asked, as he reached in again to pet the ugly dog, affectionately.

"You brought her with us. You can't stand to be apart from her..." Will smiled, he hated leaving his dogs, that much was true, but Hannibal hardly seemed the type.

Hannibal huffed, and shook his head as Poptart snuggled her face against his palm."I brought her for the sake of her therapy," he insisted, chin raised high and haughty.

"Okay... I just thought maybe I finally found someone who understood my care for dogs..." Will said, letting that trail off as he watched Hannibal pet her.

Hannibal sighed at Will as Poptart climbed out of her partially opened carrier, and went straight for Hannibal, snuggling against his pale-colored suit like she did it all the time.

"I understand perfectly," Hannibal said, and gave in, wrapping her like a baby in the mink blanket, then held her with a heavy sigh, so that she relaxed.

Will rolled his eyes, and let Hannibal deal with Poptart since he brought her. "What are we going to feed her?"

"I brought a few things in my luggage," Hannibal assured Will as the plane began to taxi once the doors closed. "Are you a frequent flier, Will?"

"Not really, why?" Will asked, watching the tarmac getting dark with the set sun.

"Merely curious," Hannibal said as the plane began to pick up speed.

"You do not strike me as a nervous passenger, you show no signs of anxiety when I am behind the wheel, at least," Hannibal said, observing a woman as she began to struggle with a panic attack across the aisle.

Will had to block out those who were like that, and tried not to look when Hannibal did. "Flying isn't something I'm afraid of, it’s the people."

Hannibal understood, and squeezed Will's hand. "I see, panic is contagious, in your case."

"Yeah." Will just tried to zone it out, and not think about it, but instead Hannibal and Poptart next to him.

Hannibal leaned closer, and kissed Will's jaw. "How is your bottom?" he whispered.

Will gave Hannibal a little glare at that. "It's fine..."

Hannibal smiled, seductively, and shrugged his shoulders. "Merely enquiring," he said, and petted the dog during take off.

"We won't have time to revisit it anyway," Will warned, this was /business/.

"A shame," Hannibal said, airily, and rubbed his thumb over Will's hand as the plane took off, ascending into the sky.

The flight wasn't too long, and Will had fallen asleep again against Hannibal shoulder, only to wake just as they were landing. He let Hannibal out first and then helped with Poptart, as they made their way to the main part of the airport, and then the luggage pick up.

Hannibal let Will sleep against, him, gladly, then accompanied him as they collected their luggage.

"Where to first? I've reserved a vehicle for us while we flew..."

"Of course you did." Their car was waiting for them and a man handed Hannibal the keys as Will loaded the car.

"We'll go check in and get some sleep, and I'll call Jack later."

"Perfect," Hannibal said, as he took the keys to the silver lexus, and opened Will's door for him, chivalrously.

"Hungry?"

He, admittedly, hadn't eaten since breakfast. He nodded, setting everything in and then buckled up and held onto the carrier.

"Starved."

"Perhaps room

service will be in order, since you seem fatigued," Hannibal said, as he climbed in behind the wheel, and put his seat back before turning the heat up.

He began driving, with a look at Will.

"It's well past midnight, I think I have a right to be exhausted," Will explained, with a little yawn, and looked back at Hannibal.

"What?"

"Nothing else prets upon your mind?" Hannibal asked, softly, as he drove through snowy, mid-western streets.

"I'm putting myself into the mind of a serial killer," he huffed lightly, " I think there's plenty on my mind."

"An uncomfortable transition for you, I'm sure," Hannibal said, with some genuine sympathy.

"I think about killing for a living, its what I teach now, but... /feeling/ it..." Will shrugged, it had taken a toll on his sleep, and he was sure things were just /starting/.

Hannibal touched Will's curls, softly, and nodded.

"Your gift comes at a price."

"I should be used to it, living with you."

But he didn't put himself in Hannibal's shoes, he didn't have to, he understood him without having to delve in deep.

"Not all who kill are the same. Sharks have little in common with lions," Hannibal mused, as he turned on some classical music.

"Mm," he hummed as they drove, and when they go to the hotel, it wasn't as nice as some, but it was much nicer than the motel Jack had wanted him to stay in on the feds money.

Hannibal pulled up, and carried their luggage to the front desk, where he checked them in, then went upstairs to the room, with Will.

"At what time are we due to meet Mr. Crawford?"

Will checked his watch as they entered their room. "In about five hours."

That was at eight in the morning.

"Then sleep is our first priority," Hannibal sighed, and let Poptart out of her carrier, then picked her up.

"Get ready for bed, I'll take her outside for a moment."

"You don't have to," Will insisted, sure he could take his own dog out for a moment and then get ready for bed.

"I can manage, don't fret. We won't be a moment," Hannibal said, and kissed Will briefly before he took Poptart outdoors.

Will resigned and let them go, changing into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and slid into bed, looking over notes on his phone for when he saw Jack tomorrow.

Fifteen minutes later, Hannibal returned, with Poptart in arm, and set her on the bed, then hung up his coat and removed his shoes.

"Much more snow here, than Baltimore. I am reminded somewhat of Russia."

Will raised a brow when they returned, and then settled in, Poptart snuggled up on the bed at Will's feet.

"Good or bad?"

"Neither good, nor bad," Hannibal said, with a small smile, and removed his gloves, scarf, and coat, hanging them up as he looked around the nice, but quite plain room.

"Thank you, for arranging for this."

"It's not your usual, I know that, but it's what I could get at the time," Will yawned, pulling back covers as he watched Hannibal start to, hopefully, undress and join him.

Hannibal undid his tie when Will did that, and opened his bag to withdraw a pair of elegant silk pajamas. He undressed slowly, every motion controlled and elegant as he stripped down to nothing.

"You thought of my needs, I appreciate the gesture," Hannibal said as he pulled the silk pants on.

Will watched, amazed that such a man even wanted to be with him, taking in Hannibal's form a little greedily.

"Least I can do."

Hannibal pulled the silk bottoms up, over his hard thighs, and ass, then looked at the look on Will's face and smiled to himself as he put the shirt back in his bag, and set the bag on a chair, then climbed into bed, shirtless.

"Very thoughtful," he whispered, as he slid one arm under Will's head.

Will turned into the gesture and rested up against Hannibal, hand on his bare chest, through the thick hair there.

"You're distracting."

"What is it I am distracting you from, Will?" Hannibal asked, smoothly, and wrapped both arms around his boyfriend as Poptart snuggled their feet.

"Sleep," he chuckled lightly, eyes now on Hannibal's, arms around him, pulling him in for an embrace.

Hannibal smirked, and snuggled into Will's arms, staring back at him.

"You're no longer tired?"

"Watching you gets my heart racing..." he murmured, kissing the side of Hannibal's jaw.

"Watching me change?" Hannibal whispered with a smile in his voice.

He curled one long leg around Will's and used it to keep Will close, locked against him.

"You're very good looking," Will sighed, happily locked in against his boyfriend.

"I'm glad you think so," Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will's soft lips, slowly and deeply, one hand in his hair.

God, who needed sleep when he could have this? Will groaned into Hannibal's mouth, sliding his tongue against his. Hannibal hummed, and sucked Will's tongue like a candy, the. stroked his hands down Will's back, warming the skin with them as he went.

Will squeezed his body forward again Hannibal, head tilted to bring their mouths together perfectly sealing them. He moaned into his mouth, fingers grazing over hip bones. Hannibal's hips arched under Will's touch, and he turned them over in bed, so that he laid heavy and warm over Will as they kissed. Will hummed, pleasantly, rolled over and happy to be right there, under Hannibal's weight, warm and secure. He palmed over his hip, to his ass, over silky pants.

Hannibal arched his toned ass when Will's hand brushed over it, and slipped his thigh between Will's thighs, the silk brushing against his cotton boxers.

"Won't you be exhausted tomorrow?"

Will huffed a laugh against Hannibal mouth and ground his palms against his ass, bringing him in against his leg.

"Yeah... probably.."

"You believe the sacrifice is worth your fatigue?" Hannibal whispered against the side of Will's throat, and kissed it, over and over, with increasing hunger as he eased Will's boxers off.

His heart rate spiked and his body grew hotter by the second as his boxers were pushed down over his hips and straining cock.

"Don't you?"

"Of course," Hannibal whispered against Will's throat, and moved down his body, slowly, kissing and biting his nipples until they were red and throbbing, then took Will's cock in hand, and stroked him.

Will watched and then groaned, writhing into Hannibal's mouth and hand.

"I'll sleep extra after the meeting..."

"Perhaps tiring you out will be best, after all," Hannibal whispered, and kissed his way down Will's flat stomach to his cock, which he licked slowly, wrapping his strong, hot tongue around it's hard curves.

"Hannibal-" he gasped, reaching or strings of ashen hair with his rough fingers, tugging as the wet hotness took over his loins.

"Yes?" Hannibal purred, as he worked his devilishly hot tongue around and around Will, exploiting every nerve ending as it flickered and rasped against his cock.

"Just... just like that," he groaned, gripping his hair harder as he licked like that.

Hannibal groaned against Will's cock, and tortured him with lashes of his tongue, curious to see if it would be enough to bring Will to climax if he did it just right.

He rested both large palms on Will's thighs, squeezing and flexing slowly, like a large, pleased cat kneading the muscle.

Will had been thoroughly lavished since he met Hannibal, and made to come almost every night, and he never complained. He loved it, he loved Hannibal.

"Mm," he grunted, pressing his hips up into Hannibal's mouth, feeling his lower back ache with heat.

Hannibal moaned, encouraging Will as he pressed himself closer, and lathed his tongue over and around Will's cock, able to /feel/ it start to throb, able to smell and taste the subtle change in his skin, in the slick at the tip of his head.

He breathed against, and licked Will, more violently, then held his hips down to the bed, pinning and frustrating Will's lust, almost teasing him with the promise of his mouth.

Will groaned, one hand over his eyes, frustration setting in, he couldn't bring himself to stop Hannibal and tell him to just fuck him. Pinned, he just curled his toes, dug nails into Hannibal's scalp.

Hannibal growled at the feeling of Will's nails in his scalp: sharp, and beautiful in it's desperation. He could feel Will straining against his own determination not to snap and beg or command Hannibal to fuck him, and if anything, that made Hannibal more determined to make him erupt.

Hannibal ground the rough flat of his infamously sensitive tongue against Will's cock, then ran the tip of it down Will's shaft and began to flick the tip against the bundle of nerves between Will's balls and his entrance.

Will writhed something fierce when Hannibal did that, and pushed his ass down against his tongue, needing more of him, more of /something/.

"Fuck, Hannibal..."

Hannibal made another groaning, growling noise, and dragged his tongue over Will's sensitive entrance, slowly, warming and teasing it before he pressed his tongue inside, enjoying Will like a delicacy.

"Hannibal-" he groaned again, writhing and trying not to move his hips, but he couldn't help it. "Please."

Hannibal drove his tongue in, deeper, and wetted Will as he plunged his tongue inside him, over and over again, fucking him with the muscle, slowly.

"Please," he begged again, drawing fingers into fists in Hannibal's hair, needing him to stop this and just /take/ him.

Hannibal heard the pleading in Will's voice, and pulled his mouth away, slowly, panting as he looked up at him and eased a finger inside his body.

"Please what?"

Please... _sir,_ " he said, a shred of dignity leaving him as he did it, but his body responded quite differently, taking Hannibal's finger, greedily.

Hannibal's lips curled, with pleasure, and he moved closer, kissing his way up Will's stomach, back to his nipples.

"I cannot resist when you ask so sweetly," Hannibal whispered, and knelt between Will's legs, chest heaving, light hair in his dark eyes.

He replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock, and pushed into Will's body.

Hannibal was older enough to make the 'sir' thing work wonders, and Will was more turned on by it than he cared to admit.

He leveled his hips to let Hannibal in, and groaned softly, breathing into the air, out slowly, and then kissed Hannibal passionately.

Hannibal's eyes went closed with bliss as he was kissed by Will, and he bent over Will to kiss him back, pinning him by his wrists into the bed as he began to move inside him, slowly, but very, very deeply.

Will groaned, with pleasure, stuck and pinned, happily, letting Hannibal all control, trusting him with this.

"Hannibal..." he breathed out.

Hannibal's hips continued grinding, slowly, against Will, building up steam and speed until he was screwing the gorgeous young man again, into the hotel mattress, which set the bed creaking under them.

Will's fingers wriggled with delight, the only part that could move as he was pinned under Hannibal, body and hands holding him down.

"Harder..."

Hannibal almost glared with the intense focus of his dark eyes, and gripped his fingers into the flesh of Will's ass, lifting him /up/ so that he could fuck him harder, almost punishingly hard. His hips bruised the already tender skin of Will's buttocks, beating a dark, purple line into them as Hannibal panted and groaned his pleasure.

He wouldn't sit for longer this time, he was sure of it.

Will groaned, lifting off the bed, taking Hannibal's punishingly hard thrusts, feeling the build in his thighs and lower back.

Hannibal was, if anything, more of an animal this time than the last. He grunted and seethed as he fucked Will, vigorously. His usually perfectly kept hair was in wild disarray now, hanging in his smouldering eyes.

"Will-" Hannibal managed, and dug his nails into the meat of Will's ass as he fought off his impending orgasm.

Will put his hands around Hannibal's shoulders, wrapping them there, and then bared his neck at him, as he groaned loud, so close it /hurt/.

"Come for me, Will-" Hannibal rasped, against Will's ear, in a voice that seemed dragged out of a nightmare, out of the dark.

He bit Will's throat, hard, and lathed his tongue against the welling droplets of blood there.

Will rutted, and started to come, reeling in a spiral like daze, spewing hot onto himself, gasping breaths against Hannibal's head.

Hannibal came immediately after, blindingly hard inside Will's body. His head spun, and he moaned as a tremor rocked his muscular body, then sank down over Will, breathless and sweating.

"Will..."

Will took Hannibal in his arms, holding him there as they panted hard together.

"Well worth staying up a bit longer," he whispered.

"You may change your mind come morning," Hannibal chuckled, and kissed Will's face, gently, over and over again, as sweet now as he had been punishing a moment ago.

"You better hope it doesn't distract me from my job," Will said, though technically not his /job/ yet.

"I am prepared to accept any responsibility necessary for my apparent irresistible torso," Hannibal chuckled, and laid next to Will with a happy sigh.

Will rubbed his hands up Hannibal's chest and shoulders. "You better."

"Perhaps for the duration of the case, I shall have to keep my shirt on?" Hannibal teased, and brushed a damp curl out of Will's blue eyes.

"A good idea," Will said, pushing Hannibal so he was laying down with him, and curled up against his side, sweaty to sweaty chest.

"Anything to assist," Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will's lips, softly, and

sweetly.

"And now, sleep. We have an early morning ahead."

Will nodded, agreeing, and wrapped himself around Hannibal, nuzzling into his chest. "Good night, Hannibal."

"Good night, Will," Hannibal whispered, and smiled to himself when Will clung to him like that.

His phone rang at seven forty five in the morning, and Will groaned, wiping a little drool from his mouth and Hannibal's chest as he reached over for it.

He hit the answer call; "Hi, Jack. Yeah. Yeah. We'll be there twenty. Yeah."

Hannibal opened his eyes, and looked over at Will, then straightened in bed, and brushed hair out of his eyes with a sigh.

He lingered, listening for a moment, then went into the bathroom to start the shower for Will so that it was warm.

Will hung up and walked into the bathroom with Hannibal, stripping down quickly, and then got in. "Coming in with me?"

"So long as you can promise not to become distracted? Certainly," Hannibal said, then spoke to room service on the phone in the bathroom, ordering quickly for both of them before he hung up.

"Are we tardy?"

"No no, he was just making sure I was going to be on time," Will said, and into the shower and started to wash his hair and body quickly

Hannibal nodded, and stepped in after Will, helping to wash his hair, and rinse it properly to get all of the suds out of his curls.

"Breakfast will arrive soon, I'll take Poptart for her outdoor break."

"Thank you," Will said and turned to help Hannibal with his own hair. Once all clean, he got them towels and dressed quickly. The food arrived and Will ate as he finished getting his shoes and socks on, toast in mouth.

Hannibal returned with Poptart, and fed her from a container he had packed in his suitcase and stored in the small fridge.

He finished dressing as Poptart ate, managing to look polished and perfect in seconds, like he had spend hours fussing over his hair and clothing.

"Thanks," he said, shoving toast into his mouth and grabbed the coffee, looking over his phone with the notes he had on it.

"You are welcome, and some fruit and bacon," Hannibal reminded him as he set the food on a plate and set it near Will, who looked like he got ready in a rush.

Will straightened his jacket and sat, they hadn't much time, but he stuffed bacon and fruit into his mouth too, starved since they didn't eat last night either.

Hannibal finished his food, and sipped his coffee as he watched Will with a smile.

"How far away is the site?"

"It's a house. Where the girl was put back." He was pretty sure that it was going to be fine, that he wouldn't get more from the house, but Jack wanted to start there.

"Alright," Hannibal said as he finished his food, and set the plates aside, neatly, then stood to fix Will's unkempt hair.

"Shall we bring Poptart, or let her stay here?"

"Best if she wasn't in the way for now," Will said, letting Hannibal fix his hair.

"I'll leave her with her toy," Hannibal nodded, as he arranged Will's curls and fixed the collar of his shirt for him, then patted his shoulder, and retrieved an expensive looking dog toy from his suitcase, then let Poptart watch him fill it with treats.

Will chuckled, shaking his head. He grabbed his papers and phone, and started out the door.

Hannibal hid the toy for Poptart, then took his coat, and followed Will out, shouldering the long coat on as he left.

"Something amusing?"

"No. You're amazing with her. I like that." Will handed hannibal the keys and set the GPS in the car for the directions.

"I may have underestimated my potential to become friendly with certain dogs," Hannibal said, primly, and let Will set the gps, watching him.

Will just smiled over at him, and let Hannibal drive them to the house.

Hannibal pulled up to the house, and parked the car in the snow outside the simple, idyllic looking scene, then looked around.

"Charming. The girl's parents are outside?"

A figure in a fedora and long coat waited for Will, near the door.

Will shrugged, he wasn't sure. He got out, putting his gloves on, and walked over to Jack, knowing Hannibal was paces behind him.

"Jack..."

"Will, good to see you made it, and this must be Doctor Lecter," Jack said, offering his hand to Hannibal.

"It is, so good to meet you, Agent Crawford," Hannibal said, and shook Jack's hand.

"I've read your paper, the ... the ... evolutionary benefits of ... social exclusion?"

"Have you?" Hannibal asked, with a little smile.

"Impressive stuff, even for a layman."

"You are the head of the FBI's behavioral unit, and you refer to yourself as a layman?" Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head.

"In your company, I do."

Hannibal looked appropriately flattered, and looked at Will.

"Thank you so much."

Will knew that Jack had Hannibal by his ego now, a place many would do well to be in, as far as Will was concerned. He shook Jack's hand, and then opened the file he brought with him with the notes he had.

"Well, no point in wasting time," Jack said, moving back to Will, closer to the door, and looked back at him. Jack knocked, and waited for a response.

A pale, sad looking woman opened the door.

"Ma'am, I'm Agent Crawford from the FBI, we spoke on the phone. This is Special Agent Will Graham, and Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Would you mind if we came in, asked a few questions?"

"The police were already here..." the woman said, they had come when their daughter had been found, Will knew this, but it was dire he get inside to slip inside the murderers thoughts.

"We won't be long. I'd like to take a look at the scene, if I could."

"We're the FBI, separate from the police," Jack explained, patiently, and stepped inside to see an anxious-looking man.

"FBI? Have you found her?"

Will wasn't listening, he was looking around the house, taking in everything, and made his way up stairs, putting on his blue sterile gloves so he wouldn't contaminate any crimes scenes.

Hannibal focused on Will, and left Jack to talk to the parents as Will looked around. Hannibal followed, as silent as a ghost, observing the way Will worked, with quiet fascination.

He got to the girl's room, opening the door, where a cat was pawing to be let in. Will turned to Hannibal, aware he was there.

Hannibal tilted his head at the cat, then looked at Will.

"He seems to think there is something worth seeing inside," Hannibal said, with an air of foreboding.

Will pushed the door open, and there was a smell, a stench in the air he couldn't explain, but it made him want to turn back right now, but he stepped in anyway.

The girl was tucked into her bed, but very much dead.

Hannibal took a deep inhale of the air, and crossed to the dead girl, examining her with a deep sigh.

"No point in taking a pulse," he sighed, and looked at Will.

Will was quiet, his eyes were closed, and he was counting back the steps the killer would take, the reasons he would do this. Jack would be sending a team up soon once he found out, he had to get what he needed now. Anything to take and hopefully get them closer to the killer.

Hannibal went to the window, and looked out at the small ledge, able to see blurred footprints in the snow on the ledge. He didn't mention it, but instead, watched Will, like watching his face could tell him something of his inner processes.

"The malignancy is obvious, the scent is lingering in the air."

"Couldn't give her the death she deserved. As I thought, the meat is bad," he said, not getting much here, and looked at the good, pushing her bloody night dress to the side, she'd been stitched back up. He'd bet everything was still there.

"She's been run through with something, here ..." Hannibal used an expensive pen from his pocket to point out something in one of the wounds, something soft looking.

Will gave Hannibal not to touch, the team would that, but he looked closer.

"Antler velvet...?" He canted his head, "It's used to promote healing...could also be from what he'd taken her. Lots of hunters around here."

"His apology," Hannibal said, almost finishing Will's thought. 

"For taking her life, and being unable to dignify it with putting her to use."

"All of her." Jack knocked on the door and Will let the team walk in and get set up. Will stood back by Hannibal.

Hannibal stood in front of Will, shielding him somewhat from the necessity of having to interact with the others.

"Is that what you think he's doing to them? Not only eating, but in his mind giving them a decent death by utilizing all of them somehow? Giving them new life?"

"Nothing goes to waste," Will murmured, nodding his head. "Hair in pillow or even clothes..."

"And yet, he took nothing from this girl," Hannibal said, and watched the distraught parents in the hallway, in a detached manner, not a flicker of emotion in his dark amber eyes.

"The manner in which she is arranged is ... careful, even loving, in a fashion."

"It's an apology. He didn't know she was ill," Will sighed, and snapped his gloves off, going to leave the room, go through his files, make some new notes.

He had to catch this guy.

Hannibal followed, the two of them moving and communicating as though no one else in the world existed, nearly able to read each other's mind.

Jack caught Will by the shoulder on the stairs.

"Did you manage to figure anything out?" he asked in a hushed voice, as Hannibal watched with sharp eyes.

"Mid forties, has a daughter likely around these girls' ages. Same look, height. This one was... /rotten/ in side. She was /sick/. So he brought her back and tried to apologize."

"Apologize?" Jack asked, with a confused look on his face, and looked from Will, up to the room, trying to see the /murder/ as an apology.

Hannibal watched, carefully, as Jack nodded, and looked at Will again, shifting his jaw.

"So he's going to try again? He's not ... this isn't going to stop him?"

"No, it's not going to stop. He'll keep going, because she's leaving soon, and he can't kill her, so..." Will nodded his head a little, shrugging.

"Okay, okay. Go on, I'll catch up with you later, call if you come up with anything else," Jack said, with a disappointed, but anxious look at Will, then up at Lecter, waving him through.

"There's /nothing/ else you can tell me about this guy, about what we're looking for here? Somewhere to start?"

"I think he hunts. That's a big thing here, but... he could have a lodge or cabin where he does this, not at home, not with his daughter and wife there..."

"You're /sure/ this is about a daughter?" Jack asked, his brow knit tightly as more forensics techs went up and down the stairs, around them, no one willing to ask Jack to move.

"Yes. Just look at the girls that have gone missing, they all fit the same description," Will said, showing Jack his own file.

"We'll start looking at hunting and fishing licences in the area, it's ... somewhere, cabins too," Jack sighed, and dismissed Will with a clap of his large hand against Will's narrow shoulder.

"I'll be in touch, go rest."

Will flinched, but then turned back and away from Jack.

"Yeah, let me know if something else comes up. I'll start some research online."

"I'll see you at the office tomorrow morning," Jack said with a nod to Hannibal, and headed upstairs, people moving out of his way as he did so.

Hannibal nodded back, politely, and began to descend the stairs with Will, watching as the cat crossed their path again, meowing.

Will leaned down and pet the cat, and then stood. 

"He doesn't like my answers because they aren't answers, I don't /know/ everything," Will said, slightly irritated.

Hannibal watched Will, and listened when he spoke, then nodded his agreement as he gestured for them to exit the premises.

"Agent Crawford sees you as a fragile little teacup, only to be used for special guests."

Will let off a lot growl at that, barely heard, and marched out. This was how the police department treated him, too.

"Now we just fucking wait..."

"Back to our hotel?" Hannibal asked, with a last look behind him at the house, which was now crawling with specialists, quite literally.

Will nodded, still haunted by the look of the dead girl, the reasons she was brought back... He shivered and tightened his coat around himself.

Hannibal draped his own scarf around Will's neck, and walked with him back to the car, opening the door for him, courteously, before he got in the driver's side and headed away from the crime scene.

"Would it help to verbalize the images whirling around the bone arena of your skull, Will? That is, after all, what I am here for."

"You're my boyfriend," Will said, letting the term slip from his tongue for the first time. 

He sighed and buckled in, watching the house disappear as they drove away from it.

"That I am," Hannibal said, and turned on some soothing chamber music, something to soothe Will's nettled psyche as they travelled.

"I am also a trained psychiatrist, and the person who knows you best, aside from Winston, whom you consider a person," Hannibal said, and looked at Will.

Will sighed again, heavily this time. It was hard to bring to words what he saw in his mind, the things he knew his nightmares were made of, fevered or no.

"I know... it's so hard to... convey."

"Speak to me of what you can," Hannibal suggested, and touched Will's hand with his own.

"You and I are connected, slowly becoming symbiotic. I will fill in as much as possible."

"There are antlers, and the girl is hung up on them to bleed out," He explained, though not sure if that's the truth, but its what he's seen.

"Mounted ..." Hannibal murmured, thinking /with/ Will, nearly able to step into Will's mind, and share what he envisioned.

"She was not killed by the antlers, but placed upon them, a fine kill, mounted upon another trophy..."

"Yes. Mounted." He felt sick to his stomach suddenly, and half way back, he got text from jack.

"Katz found metal shavings. Likely from a construction site. Down to take a nap later? After we ... scope out some places?"

"If you are certain that you're up for it, yes," Hannibal agreed, and looked over at Will again, able to see the fatigue in his eyes.

"Where would you like to go?"

Will pulled up his browser on his phone to look at a few places, and then picked some close by.

"Let's try these first and if they dont pan out, we nap?"

Hannibal took a brief look at the list, then at Will, and kept driving.

"Very well, it seems we are investigating without the assistance of Agent Crawford," he said, with a little sparkle in his eye.

Will shrugged; "I have my special Agent badge."

That didn't mean much, but he was part of the team and he had his /psychologist/ with him.

"Very well, it's so interesting to see how an investigation is conducted," Hannibal chuckled, and headed toward the first site.

"What if we should encounter our compassionate killer?"

"We call Jack, and try to keep him, I guess?"

Will wasn't sure, he wasn't /real/ FBI.

"Are you armed?" Hannibal asked, with a subtle impressed look on his face as he smiled at Will, unable to help but flirt with the handsome special agent a little.

"Yes..." he had his gun around his belt, strapped there.

"Just in case."

Hannibal peeked at the gun, and smiled as he drove, turning toward a rock quarry.

"How impressive. I have never fired a gun, to be honest."

"No?" Will asked, as he hoped they wouldn't need his gun, he was a terrible shot.

"Never once," Hannibal confirmed, and stole another glance at Will.

"Such an American weapon."

Will just smiled at hannibal and then got out once they were parked. There was /something/ about this place...

Hannibal stepped out with Will, and locked the car, then looked around, with curiosity. 

"How will you go about finding him?"

"Asking questions about people who work here, children, hobbies, addresses, that sort of thing," Will said, quietly, and climbed the stairs to the portable office unit and knocked on the door.

"I see," Hannibal said, and followed Will, looking and feeling very much out of place in the thoroughly blue-collar environment. 

"Come in," a bored female voice called.

Will pushed the door open and offered an uneasy smile at the woman.

"I'm with the FBI, we're here to ask a few questions about some of the employees here."

"What kinda questions?" the woman asked with a frown, but went back to her desk, uneasily.

Hannibal followed Will in, quietly, observing everything.

"Any one with a teenage or college age daughter? Wind chaffed, pale, brown hair?" Will was very specific, but he had a clear vision of what the girl might look like.

"I .. uh ... maybe? I dunno, I don't talk much with these people," the woman said, distastefully, which Hannibal noted, and imagined skinning her.

"May I look through the employee files?" Will asked, and started to shift through papers, sure that if they were to find anything, it would be here. His mind could make the connections quickly.

"Well, I ... I guess, but -" she made an irritated sound, rolled her eyes, and sat down, dealing the phone quickly to gossip.

"Charming," Hannibal said, under his breath to Will as he pulled some files out to help, and watched what Will was doing.

"What is it you are looking for?"

"Anything that seems amiss, off, you know?" Will said, pilfering through the files, he set a few aside that were off, and one had no address. That was very strange, considering most employers required that.

"Hobbs, does he have an address anywhere else? It's not here," Will said to the woman.

The woman sighed, and turned around to look, exasperated.

"What makes this file stand out more than the others?" Hannibal asked, curiously.

"No address. It's..." Will sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, "suspicious. Could be nothing."

He looked over at the woman. "Does Hobbs have a daughter?"

"Maybe," she muttered as she looked through her books, and thrust an address on a paper at Will.

"Thank you. I'll need these boxes of files, too. You'll get them back later," Will told her, taking the address, he started to pick up a few boxes to take to their rental.

The woman rolled her eyes again, and Hannibal picked up an armfull of files on top of a box, and carried them out. Begrudgingly, she picked some up, and carried them out as well.

On his way out, files slipped out of Hannibal's pile, into the parking lot.

Will got his in the trunk, and went back to help Hannibal pick up the other ones.

"I got this..."

"Apologies," Hannibal sighed, and gave Will an apologetic smile, then headed back inside to get more while the receptionist helped Will pick everything up.

Will sighed, some of the papers muddy, but not too bad, and he apologized to the secretary, and got them all loaded into the trunk, and waited for Hannibal as the woman went back inside.

A moment later, Hannibal emerged, with two boxes, and carried them to the car.

"Was anything ruined?"

"Nothing that can't be salvaged," Will said, looking at the paper with the name on it, and the address. He had a gut feeling, and hopefully they would get there and just be able to feel things out. He got into the passenger side.

"Which way?" Hannibal asked, as he started the car, and backed out, headed onto the highway.

Will set the gps again for their new destination, and the directions told him which way to go. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to a house where a woman stumbled out, holding her neck and /bleeding/.

Will got out quickly, blue eyes wide, and rushed to her side, trying to stem the bleeding from her neck, but it was too late as she toppled over, unmoving.

On his feet again, Will pulled his gun, edging into the house slowly, "Garret Jacob Hobbs? FBI," he called out, but there was muffling crying from the kitchen as Will walked in, gun pointed at a wiry looking man, balding, holding a girl to him, his daughter no doubt, and a knife to her neck.

Hobbs started to slice and Will shot off round after round, hands shaking, not able to get a good hit, and finally one them sunk, right into the man's chest, his heart, and he dropped. Will ran to the girl's side, blood gushing from her neck. He tried to stop, and looked up, hoping Hannibal would come, he couldn't do...

Oh god, there was so much blood... he's just /killed/ someone...

Hannibal watched as Will reacted, as he tried to save first the mother, then the girl. Ten bullets sank into Hobb's chest, and Will's eyes were alive and /crackling/ with darkness and adrenaline, like a beast inside him had come alive.

Hannibal stepped forward, smoothly, and elevated the girl's head and neck, then removed Will's shaking hand, and replaced it with his own still one, applying pressure to the girl's artery, and not her windpipe.

The man was not quite dead yet, but slumped against the cabinets. He stared at Will with pale eyes.

"See? See?" he asked, in a strange tone, then slumped back, dead.

Will was shaking, and the police sirens could be heard in the distance. Paramedics arrived, and Will stood out of the way, covered in blood, and distant feeling, as they loaded her up and had her carried out, stabilized so far.

Hannibal helped the paramedics stabilize the girl, then washed his hands, and joined Will outside. The darkness that flared out and gunned Hobbs down was hiding again, back in it's beautiful shell.

"She'll live, thanks to you."

"They'll take her to Maryland, closer to Jack and the rest, she'll be questioned," Will said, cut off to most of everything else.

Hannibal touched the side of Will's arm, and pulled his pocket square out, to clean his glasses with, then his face, no matter how attractive he found the spatter, it needed to be done.

"Would you feel better if we followed?"

Will nodded, slowly, letting Hannibal clean him up where Will didn't feel he could. "Is that okay. Do you... do you think that's... weird?"

"Not at all. You are her rescuer, it is natural that you should feel connected. Let's go to the hotel, clean you up, and head out."

Will looked at himself, finally, and nodded. Jack was too busy cleaning up a mess to tell him to stay. He got into the car, carefully, and waited for Hannibal.

Hannibal followed, and climbed in, then offered Will the pocket square as he started the car, and drove back toward the city.

"What did you feel in the moment when you squeezed the trigger? It helps to process a traumatic event if one reviews it with a guide immediately after."

"Powerful," Will said, quietly, wiping his face and hands, though the blood was all over his arms and in his clothes for the most part.

"As you should. You intervened at a critical moment, you stopped a murder, you saved a young girl, Will. You were powerful."

Hannibal touched Will's shoulder, adoringly.

'I killed him." It took ten slugs too, that was the embarrassing part.

"You certainly did," Hannibal said, softly, and moved his hand to touch Will's jaw, something for him to focus on.

"You took action, you were well within your rights. This is the first life you have ended, Will?"

"Yes." He was quick to answer, and looked down at his blood stained fingers.

"Did your quickness and the alacricity with which you stopped Mr. Hobbs alarm you?" Hannibal asked, softly.

"A bit."

Will was withdrawn, quiet, and unsure of himself.

"You thought, should this ever happen, that you would feel quite different. How?" Hannibal asked, thoughtfully.

"That I had a right to." Will looked out the window as they drove, feeling hollow inside and all together... empty. And yet part of him felt righteous.

"And how do you feel, in contrast? Do you feel guilt, or guilt at the pride you feel swelling in your chest? That was a primal sort of justice, after all."

"Both, I guess... I'm not sure." Will covered his face with his hands, wiping them there.

"You are in a delicate moment, your emotions, your reactions to this event are in a primordial state: very new, difficult to untangle from one another. However, I can say that my own feelings on the event I witnessed are very clear," Hannibal said, as he turned toward the city, back to their hotel.

He looked at Will as he pulled into the right lane, and increased their speed.

"What you did was warranted, and I feel enormous pride."

Will felt anything but good here, or at least that was what he was telling himself this was. He killed someone, shot to death, bled out...

He swallowed heavily, everything seemed to slow down when Hannibal sped up.

"Proud I killed someone? Or proud I finally did what I wouldn't do the first time?"

"You did what you had to do in order to save that girl's life," Hannibal said, solidly.

"You did not hesitate. Most would call your actions heroic, no matter how you feel about them."

"I guess so."

No hesitation, when he had hesitated a few months ago with his own life in danger.

"Were you raised with a particular religion?" Hannibal asked, softly, turning again, toward the city.

"No, not really." He gave a slight shrug, glancing out the window to watch the city.

"Do you believe in a God?" Hannibal asked, watching Will as he drove them.

"Not really," he said, "What I believe is something more science fiction than religion."

"Would you care to explain?" Hannibal asked, with a little smile.

Will hummed and then sighed out slowly.

"I believe in something else being out there, but an all mighty spirit we can't see? Not so much."

"Do you believe that ... something else is judging you?" Hannibal asked, with interest.

"Judging me? No. I do enough of that for myself, you know that," Will snorted, almost bitterly.

"Merely curious," Hannibal said, and reached over to touch Will's hand.

"Death is a natural, inevitable part of life. There are much worse ways to die than in the manner you gave Garret-Jacob Hobbs."

"Worse? I killed him, Hannibal. Shot dead. In front of his daughter..."

"It was quick, and you saved his daughter the experience of dying at her father's hands," Hannibal sighed.

"She'll still be wounded, inside and out," He sighed, and looked over at Hannibal.

"But she will be alive," Hannibal pointed out, and touched the side of Will's neck, in a comforting manner.

"Do you think she'll see it that way?" He looked over at Hannibal, blue eyes bright against some of the blood splatter still on his skin.

"After the shock wears off, yes, I should hope so," Hannibal said, with a look to Will's eyes.

Will nodded, and said nothing else. They got back to the hotel and he took a long, hot shower and scrubbed the blood off his skin and under his fingernails. Once out, he put on clean clothes, a blue button down and khakis that Hannibal packed for him.

Hannibal took the dog out, again, and waited for Will to emerge, his own mind replaying the dark, powerful look in Will's eyes, over and over again.

It was fascinating, and struck a chord, deep within Lecter's psyche. Could Will be even more like him than he believed?

Will's compassion left unable to process even being like that at all, but he was even going to think about that right now. He put his stuff into his pockets and pet Poptart on the head gently.

"Ready?"

"Yes. Shall we drive, or fly?" Hannibal asked, as he stood, keys in hand.

"Would they fly her there now? Is she stable enough?" Will wasn't a doctor, he didn't know these things.

"Unlikely, I think they would drive her out, we will only be half an hour behind. When she arrives, no doubt she will likely be in surgery for a few hours," Hannibal said, knowingly.

Will nodded, and started to gather their things. "We can drive, drop the rental off at home later."

"We will have plenty of time," Hannibal nodded, and shouldered his own bag, then took Poptart's leash in hand.

Will loaded up the car and put the crate into the back, so poptart could ride without it, she would be okay.

"Thank you."

"What for?" Hannibal asked, as they climbed in, him behind the driving wheel, of course.

"Helping. Today." He wrapped his arms around Hannibal's middle, resting his head on his chest.

Hannibal curled his arms around Will's back, and held him closer, almost able to /feel/ the beautiful darkness stirring inside Will when he ran his fingers through his curls.

"Of course."

Will thought Hannibal's presence was soothing, and quelling the darkness in him, little did he realize it was the stroking the flames subconsciously.

"I know I can count on you."

"You are my first priority," Hannibal whispered, sincerely, even /more/ in love with his young Will than he had been before today.

He kissed Will's cheek, then nuzzled their profiles together for a moment.

Will snuggled into Hannibal and then let go, they had to get going, but he needed reassurance.

"I love you."

Hannibal cupped Will's face with both large, warm hands, and gazed at his blue eyes.

"I love you, as well, Will. More than you could ever know."

Attempting a smile up at Hannibal, Will leaned his cheek into one of his palms, and kissed it.

"We should get going."

Will was obviously eager to be there when Abigail woke. Hannibal nodded, and brushed his thumb over Will's cheekbone, then gave his lips another kiss, and headed toward the car.

"We should, but I warn you, I doubt very much she will be out of surgery until later this evening."

"I know. I don't want to stick k around here in case Jack decides he bees me for something else."

"A wise decision," Hannibal said, as he started the car, and once Will was in, backed out of the parking lot, headed for the highway.

Will held Poptart in his lap, and texted Alana to see how the other dogs were, and then napped a little more, though his dreams were filled with horrible things now, like dead Hobbs, and the girl's throat being cut.

Hannibal let Will nap in the car as he drove, some Bach playing softly in the background as they made their way through the bleak countryside.

Finally, they stopped outside of a hospital, and Hannibal looked at Will, watching him for a moment as he recalled the darkness he exhibited earlier.

Will hummed, and then woke slowly, blinking his blue eyes up at Hannibal, and yawned. He stretched, looking around. It took a little longer than the flight would have, but that gave them some time for Abigail to get there first.

Hannibal reached over and touched Will's jaw, gently, then fixed his hair.

"Did you dream well?"

"Yeah."

He didn't need to worry his therapist boyfriend with his dreams, or nightmares as they might turn out to be.

Hannibal kissed Will, slowly. He knew full well he'd had a nightmare, and distracted him from it for a moment.

"Hungry at all?"

"Nah, I'm okay." He whispered it against Hannibal's mouth, and wrapped his arms around his neck over the center console.

"You haven't eaten since this morning, you must still have plenty of adrenaline running through your system to suppress your appetite,"

Hannibal sighed, and brushed his hand down the side of Will's neck.

Will hardly ate anything until he got with Hannibal, and then he had regular meals, but right now he just wasn't feeling it.

"Probably."

"When you have an appetite again, let me know," Hannibal said, and stepped out of the car, then opened Will's door for him.

Will only nodded and got out, Poptart on her leash and walking around, sniffing at everything.

Hannibal walked with Will past people, people who, unlike the two of them, had never taken a life. 

They had something more in common, now, and Hannibal had to fight not to smile because of it.

"Abigail Hobbs?" he enquired at the nurses' desk, and was directed to an empty room, no bed there yet.

"She's still not out of the OR," the nurse explained.

"Oh," Will sighed, looking around the waiting room, wondering what they would do, probably just sit and wait. And then, more waiting.

Hannibal took the nurse aside, and spoke to her in a low voice, then after a moment, they seemed to agree on something, and Hannibal returned for Will.

"We can wait in her room, in privacy."

"Her room?"

Will didn't argue, he was just curious.

"I told the nurse the circumstances of Abigail's injury, and this nurses's mother was an OR attendant of mine, a fortuitous coincidence," Hannibal said, offering Will his arm.

"Oh."

Will took the answer, and then Hannibal's hand, walking down to Abigail's room.

"It's flu season, hardly

the time for the healthy to linger in waiting rooms," Hannibal smiled, and led Will into the room, which held a couch, but no bed as of yet.

Will sat with Hannibal, to wait, Poptart in his lap, who moved to Hannibal once he was seated, and Will smiled.

"She likes you."

Hannibal looked down at the little dog in his lap, white and wiry against the elegant caramel color of his coat, and petted her once he removed his gloves.

"It does seem that way, I am not certain why."

"You have been kind her and taught her knew things. She feels safe." That wasn't to say she didn't with Will, but dogs could be picky who their humans were.

"Like a child," Hannibal said, with a soft smile at his unlikely "child", who was curled up against his lap, her head on his stomach through his sweater.

They were waiting for another child, of course, waiting for her to be delivered through the bloodbath from which they had rescued her.

Will sighed as they waited, leaning his head on Hannibal's shoulder.

"She's got no one now thanks to me."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with most else done by the both of us for ConstructFairytales, this one may remain unfinished. Tab will try and see if there is variable stopping point, however. Also, mind the edits, this one was only formatted from Roleplay, not edited entirely. Apologies.

**[text]** When you are free, would you care to take the dogs for a walk somewhere nice?

 **[text]** I have all the time until Monday. I'd love to

 **[text]** Perfect, I'll meet you at the front door.

Five minutes later, Will met Hannibal at the door with the rest of the dogs, sure he had Poptart with him already. "Ready?" he had his gloves and a hat on, his heavy coat.

Poptart was on her leash, one Hannibal purchased, which was made of soft, thick leather. "Of course," he said, looking quite smart with an overcoat on, and polished shoes.

Will smiled at Hannibal, all the other dogs on their worn leashes, but he couldn't afford new ones yet.

He opened the door, letting Hannibal step out first, then was lead by the dogs.

Hannibal stepped out with a soft thank you, and offered Will his arm.

"There is a botanical garden about one mile north. It's hardly in season, but I thought it might still be lovely."

Will nodded, locked up, and looped his arm around Hannibal's, tutting the dogs back gently so they didn't go too far ahead an tug on them.

"Sounds great."

Poptart kept up to the others, and Hannibal walked close to Will, at a stately pace.

"They are about to remove the holiday lights soon, I wanted to see them now that the crowds have dispersed."

Will gave Hannibal a look, but didn't say anything to that. HE was sure the crowds couldn't have been that bad, but they had gone out of town for Holiday, so...

"You're sure there won't be a crowd?"

"Fairly certain, most people have by now returned to their usual routine," Hannibal said, and returned Will's glance.

"Is something concerning you, Will?"

He shook his head, which had been caught up in the latest murders he had worked on before Christmas. His mind was full of things now, ever going, ever working, harder and faster than it had as a police officer.

"No..."

Hannibal had been busy all day, out of the house, ensuring that Will's attention would be on him even at work ... one way, or another.

"Good, I've prepared a dinner for us when we arrive home, something rather exotic."

"Exotic, how?" Will asked, well aware of the new killings, which weren't helping the nightmares or the overactive imagination either. Will often found himself /lost/ in his work, even at home.

"Lungs," Hannibal said with a little smile, and reassured Will even before he protested.

"Much more appetizing than they sound, I assure you."

Will furrowed his brow, casting a side long glance at Hannibal.

"Who from this time?"

Hannibal chuckled, and winked at Will.

"No one who will be missed, I promise," he said, and told Poptart to sit down at the corner before they crossed the street.

Will checked the street, and waited for the light, and then crossed with the dogs and Hannibal.

"A relief. Please don't tell me who, I don't want to know."

"No need," Hannibal said, with a refined smirk, and crossed with Will and the dogs.

The gardens lay across the street, bare branches twinkling with millions of tiny, clear lights. It looked magical.

It was easier not to know so when asked at work, or by Jack, or anything about something that might someday concern Hannibal, he could say he didn't know.

They crossed, and the dogs barked once at how sparkly it was.

Hannibal hushed the dogs with a few soft spoken words of Lithuanian. They had begun to listen to him, lately, even Winston.

"Beautiful, isn't it? I am reminded of Paris."

"Really?" Will asked, having never seen Paris, or even been out of the country, for that matter.

"Many trees along the Champs d'Elysee are bound with lights, year round," Hannibal explained, and walked with Will through the beautifully lit forest.

"Oh." Will smiled, and held Hannibal's arm as they walked, the dogs paying extra attention to everything around them.

The path that wound through the forest was carefully cleared, and dotted with lamp posts lit with candles, which flickered amber in the silvery winter sky.

"It seems there is a stand there selling hot chocolate, would you like one?" Hannibal asked Will.

Will eyed Hannibal curiously, but nodded. It was cold enough, he could sate a small sweet tooth.

"Please."

Hannibal's face remained unreadable, but pleasant as he purchased their drinks, and handed Will his cup, with a gleam in his eyes.

"Were you aware this park has its own fishing pond?"

"Does it?" He isn't from around here, he doesn't know much. He sips the drink, holding on to the leashes firmly.

"Just through this grove," Hannibal informed Will, casually, with a nod of his head.

"It's rumored to be an excellent fishing spot, I'm sure you'll enjoy it in the summer months," he said, walking through the trees with Will.

Just beyond the trees was something so large that it was more a lake than a pond, and in the middle of the frozen water was a shack, perfect for ice fishing. The shack was tastefully lit with more flickering candles, and evergreen garlands.

"Hm."

Will looked over at Hannibal, again, curiously, and leaned into him as they approached.

"What is that?"

"It appears to be a private ice-fishing shack," Hannibal said, with a distinct smirk at Will, and a pronounced gleam in his eyes.

Will pressed himself bashfully against Hannibal's neck and side.

"Why did you do this?"

Hannibal practically glowed when Will reacted bashfully, and snuggled against him.

"For the simple joy of seeing your reaction," Hannibal purred, and kissed Will's cheek.

"Hannibal," he sighed, and hugged him tightly.

Will's honest, overwhelmed reaction of surprise and humbled happiness made every moment of preparation for the surprise worthwhile. 

"Ice fishing seems to me a rather harsh and barbaric sport," Hannibal chuckled, then nodded at the softly lit cabin on the ice with a smile in his eyes, and walked to it with his hand around one of Will's after he took half of the dog leashes from him.

"But, I know it makes you happy, and so I endeavored to learn all I could about it."

"Barbaric?" he asked, laughing a little as they walked over. "It's boring at best."

He loved it.

"Cutting a hole in the ice, sitting outdoors in the cold," Hannibal said, smiling at Will.

"So primitive."

Will sipped his drink and then leaned up to kiss Hannibal sweetly. "You didn't have to..."

"I know," Hannibal murmured back, affectionately, and nuzzled Will for a moment, breathing in his scent before he kissed him again.

"Would you like to see the inside?"

"Yes."

For now, his mind was off the cases at work, and less so overwhelmed.Hannibal led Will and the dogs to the little

ice fishing cabin, and opened the door with a key.

The inside was rustic, but clean, and equipped with large benches with candles, blankets, and a table with a bottle

of whisky, a bottle of wine, and some food.

"It is ours until tomorrow morning."

Will raised a brow at his boyfriend, obviously very taken back by the gesture but not at all put off by it. He left him feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

"You treat everyone you date like this?" He teased, letting the dogs off leashes to sniff around.

"No," Hannibal answered simply, with a chuckle.

"Only the ones who have enchanted me, heart and soul."

Will smiled at that and hugged Hannibal tightly for it. He let go and looked down at the hole in the ice that was there already, in the middle of the room, where the dogs were sniffing around.

"Are there real fish here to catch?"

Hannibal laughed aloud, and handed Will one of the five or six readied rods that sat on a rack on the wall, then sat next to him.

"So I am told."

Will sat, readied the rod, and put it in the water, smiling over at Hannibal.

"It's not very exciting, I have to tell you."

"I enjoy your company, I'm sure that will be enough to sustain me," Hannibal said, and went to the table to pour wine for himself, whiskey for Will.

He set a dish of treats on a one of the large benches for the dogs, who gobbled them up, immediately.

"You spoil all of us," Will laughed, taking the drink from Hannibal, and sipped it.

"I consider the dogs an extension of you, of your emotional self. I would no more mistreat them than I would mistreat you, even through the discourtesy of not having considered their needs at a special event."

Hannibal clinked his glass against Will's, and sipped his wine, a warm, spicy red for the occasion.

They were his kids, so speak. Hannibal was keen to know that, and it was one reason the surly cop had given Hannibal a chance at all. Besides his stupidly handsome face.

"They're sort of your dogs too now."

Hannibal smiled over at Poptart, then looked at Will again, fondly.

"Rather like children that I've adopted through a relationship?" Hannibal asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Something like that..." Will smiled back at Hannibal, sipping his whiskey as he did, a warmth rolling over him.

"Perhaps one day, we'll adopt one together," Hannibal said with a smile in his eyes, admiring the handsome young professor as he drank in the masculine surroundings of the ice-fishing shack.

"A dog or a child?" Will mused, chuckling a little as he finished his drink and set he glass down next to him. Nothing was biting so far.

"Well, perhaps a dog first," Hannibal smirked, and sat next to Will as the dogs snuggled into the blankets on the benches around them, quite happy.

"But in time, who knows?"

Will leaned into Hannibal, head against his shoulder, the thought of kids was so far fetched to him right now, but not absurd.

"You want kids?"

"Perhaps," Hannibal said, with his arm around Will, and enjoyed the moment of closeness as Will fished through the circle made in the thick ice.

"Not immediately, but someday."

"With me?" His face flushed from the chill and the thought of staying with Hannibal long enough, or even forever.

"Yes," Hannibal replied over his wine, with soft certainty as he looked at Will. "I cannot imagine anyone else with whom I would want to make such a commitment."

Will used his free hand to Take Hannibal's, twining their fingers together. No one had ever committed so much to Will, let alone /wanted/ to be with him this long. "One step at a time."

"And like any good dance, I will enjoy each and every step," Hannibal said, with deep affection, and moved his wine so that Poptart could jump up to rest in his lap.

He chuckled and sighed at the dog.

"And our small gargoyle."

"The moment she trusted you, I knew I did too," Will admitted, having gauged Poptarts reaction to Hannibal for himself, given her past of abuse.

Hannibal touched the back of Will's neck, stroking the dark curls that lay under the collar of his jacket with a gentle brush of his fingers.

"I'm grateful for her impeccable judgement, in that case, and glad I passed her and your test."

"You were also pushy," Will chuckled, and rolled his head at the touch there, heat rising in his shoulders and neck, up his cheek.

"I was /persistent/," Hannibal laughed, and stroked his fingertip against the side of Will's throat, marvelling at how a man who enjoyed so many outdoor activities and pursuits like fixing boat motors could be so ... exquisite.

"Stalking." He grinned over at Hannibal, and leaned his head away to present his throat to him as he touched it.

Hannibal leaned closer, and brushed the stretched out skin of Will's throat with his lips.

"Observing..."

Will hummed at the touch, and had to grip his rod harder. "That's nice."

"You were so difficult," Hannibal purred, before sucking at Will's earlobe, slowly.

"You were very patient," he whispered, goosebumps crawling up hi skin under his clothes.

"And my patience was rewarded, richly," Hannibal whispered into Will's ear as his palm brushed the inside of Will's thigh.

Hannibal had a way of bringing out the part of Will he didn't think he had. Will let out a little sigh,, nuzzling his head into Hannibal's lip.

"Was it really?"

Hannibal nuzzled Will's throat again, and kissed the rough, stubbly skin under Will's jaw.

"Every day," Hannibal nodded, and palmed the warm spot between Will's thighs, rubbing slowly.

Will swallowed thickly, and turns his head to kiss Hannibal full on, dropping the rod so he could touch his shoulders and chest, leaning his body toward him.

Hannibal made a low, pleased sound in his chest, and pulled Will closer, then into his lap as Poptart leapt down.

"Distracted?"

"You always manage to make me just that," Will said, straddling Hannibal on the bench, shedding his heavy winter coat, warm now from Hannibal's touch.

Hannibal ran his hands up Will's chest, through his shirt, and undid the top buttons as they kissed, over and over.

"I do my best."

"We could have easily done this at home, too," he murmured against Hannibal's mouth, not complaining of course.

"I enjoy the feeling of you choosing me over your favorite past-time," Hannibal whispered, and ran his palm over Will's ass.

"Nothing biting yet," he assured him, and groaned as his ass was touched, rolling his hips into Hannibal's.

Hannibal took the opportunity to bite Will's throat, deeply enough that his teeth left a row of red marks over Will's throbbing pulse.

"Like so?"

"You're definitely biting," he whispered, holding Hannibal's head there, mussing up his hair as he did.

r Hannibal groaned and tilted his head, biting again, devouring Will's throat with teeth and tongue reddening and warming his flesh.

"Am I? Just where you wanted it?"

Hannibal's palm slapped Will's ass, gently, teasing.

Will groans at that, and then palms Hannibal's head with his hand, moving him up toward his ear to bite there too.

"Yes."

Hannibal obliged, with heated passion, and peeled Will's shirt off of his shoulders, down his arms.

"I'm sure we could keep warm..." he rasped with a thick accent against Will's earlobe.

He was already heated from Hannibal's affections on him, and sighed, dropping his shirt to the floor, on one of the dogs, who just curled around it.

"We will."

Hannibal ran both hands down Will's bare back, and around his waist to unbuckle his belt as he sucked Will's tongue, freeing him with a quick motion of his hands to undo his pants as well.

Will pushed Hannibal's coat off and then undid his tie, trying to catch up now, wanting to touch and feel just as much.

"So many layers..."

"The frustrations of winter apparel," Hannibal sighed against Will's mouth, as he let his hand delve into Will's pants, stroking slowly.

Frustrations forgotten, he tugged the tie off and the vest undone, hips arching into Hannibal's grasp with a low moan from his throat.

Hannibal loved nothing more than Will's groans and sighs, and twisted his palm around Will's cock, torturing him with pleasure.

"I've distracted you again."

His chest heaved with pleasure, and he kissed his need into Hannibal's mouth. "You always do. You can never come see me at work..."

"Forbidden?" Hannibal purred, and bowed his head, kissing Will's shoulders, and the space between his collarbones.

"Reach into my pocket," he instructed, knowing a bottle of expensive lubricant waited there for Will to find.

Will grabbed it, and gave Hannibal a knowing look.

"You never intended for me to fish," he groaned, flicking it open.

Hannibal gave Will a sly look when he spoke, and nipped at the soft swell of Will's pink lips, shedding his own shirt gracefully to reveal rippling muscle beneath and a hairy chest.

"I never intended for you /only/ to fish."

Will shed his own pants quickly, and undid Hannibal's pants, and pulled his cock out, slathering it with expensive lube.

"I never stood a chance," he murmured, palming Hannibal's chest, and tugging on a patch of hair with a groan.

Hannibal moaned at the way Will coated him, as though he couldn't /wait/ to have him inside.

"Now you know how I feel, daily, you gorgeous thing," Hannibal whispered, almost to himself, and pulled Will over himself, then eased him down, too hard and turned on to wait.

Will groaned, filled hot and thick with Hannibal's cock he wasn't sure /how/ he could stand not doing this /all/ the time with him. He placed diligent hands on Hannibal's shoulders as he rocked down against him.

Hannibal moaned praises against Will's throat, and rocked his hips up, into Will as much as he could in the chair they were on. He loved to watch Will, how his skin flushed, how his eyes flashed, Will was nearly unbearably beautiful when aroused, and irresistible in every sense of the word.

"Perfect."

Will moved down and against Hannibal, skin flushed in the cool room, eyes hooded as he gazed at Hannibal, lust blown.

"You feel good..."

"I crave you every moment of every day," Hannibal whispered back as their bodies writhed together, trading heat, starting to sweat as they arched and flexed.

Will groaned, grinding, and pushing his cock against Hannibal's muscled stomach, gasping as he did.

"Do you?"

"How could I not?" Hannibal asked, breathlessly, and rutted up into Will's body as he /gazed/ at him with a heated snarl, sinking deep into Will's body.

Will clasped his hands into Hannibal's hair as he rose up and then down again onto him, and groaned in time with each breath that passed his lips.

"Hannibal..."

"You make my name sound so good," he whispered, roughly, pounding into Will now, hands tight against Will's ass, spreading his cheeks.

Will let his head loll back, back arched as his ass was pounded up into, cock trapped between them, creating perfect friction. Hannibal always got a little /brutal/ with sex, and Will found he /loved/ it.

"Fuck-" he swore, biting his bottom lip.

Hannibal slapped the right cheek of Will's ass, hard enough to bruise it, and drove his cock into Will, harder and deeper.

"Come for me," he growled, scraping nails down the red mark on Will's ass.

Eyes squeezed shut, Will rutted, starting to come undone completely and head falling forward. Bright white shot behind his eyes as he came, hot and heavy.

Will exploding was glorious, like watching a star go supernova. Hannibal felt Will squeeze hard around him, and the heat of his body, and drove himself into the feeling.

"Ah-" he moaned, fighting to keep his eyes open as he felt his own body go tense and hot.

He managed to moan Will's name, once, and then came inside him.

Will groaned at the feeling, and clenched around Hannibal as he came, holding himself still there as he kissed Hannibal's neck.

Hannibal finally stilled, gasping, and wrapped his long arms around Will, his head hung back to stretch his long throat out for Will's lips.

All he could manage was a low groan.

Will kissed and licked the salty sweat from Hannibal's throat, sated but not quite /done/. Hannibal always made him feel as though he could go rounds more once they started.

Hannibal hummed, stretching like a happy cat under the rasp of Will's tongue.

"Much better," he sighed, and stroked the length of Will's spine.

"This was a lot more unwinding than fishing," he whispered against Hannibal's neck, with a little chuckle.

"Something we have a mutual enthusiasm for," Hannibal whispered back, and curled his fingers in Will's hair, slowly, then looked up into his eyes, enthralled.

Will kissed Hannibal softly, smiling against his mouth.

"Not a bad thing."

Far from it," Hannibal purred, and scraped his teeth over the swell of Will's lips, then down to the hard line of his jaw.

"I should hope it was more exciting..."

"Could have been..." he teased, groaning as Hannibal's teeth nipped at his skin.

Hannibal gave Will's ass a gentle slap again, and kissed his throat, then bit his earlobe.

"Still unsure? I'm that dull a lover?"

Will rolled his hips into Hannibal, smearing his come against him, and kissed his lips.

"I could be reminded..."

"Already?" Hannibal asked in a pleased tone, with a low chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

He kissed Will more deeply, twisting their tongues together as he rubbed one palm over his bruised ass.

Will had never found anyone else so insatiable before, but Hannibal had him intoxicated with lust more often than not. Grading papers at home had never been more difficult.

"Yes," he sighed, murmuring the words into Hannibal's mouth, against his tongue.

Hannibal nodded as they kept kissing, and lifted Will into his arms, then carried him to the sturdy table for snacks, and set him on the edge of it.

"What a wanton thing you are..."

"For you," he groaned, gazing up at Hannibal, tugging on his hair with needy fingers.

"And what a lucky man I am," Hannibal whispered, and rolled his hips, rubbing his cock against the warm inside of Will's thigh as he got hard again.

"Very lucky, Doctor Lecter," Will groaned, biting his lip as he hooked his legs around Hannibal's lower back.

Hannibal dropped his head and kissed the space between Will's collarbones, then tilted his hips and slid into Will's body again with a shudder and groan.

Perfectly slick still from Hannibal's come, Will groaned, canting his hips to take his boyfriend's length all the way down.

"God-"

Hannibal laid Will back against the table, and shoved the wine and whiskey out of the way, then drove deeper into him.

"We might do this all evening, ravishing one another senseless," he sighed, pulsing his hips forward.

"Can you keep up?" Will teased, and then groaned louder as his prostate was abused again from this direction, deeper.

The teasing from the beautiful man under him made Hannibal glower down at Will, and then grab the sides of the table, pinning Will's hands to the table as he began to fuck him harder, /screwing/ him against the wood.

"Hannibal-" his breath hitched in the words, the wind knocked right out of him as he provoked his murderous boyfriend.

Hannibal's shoulders rose, sweating and strong, and his head dipped down to lick, then bite Will's throat.

"Saucy boy," Hannibal growled.

"You have me on constant simmer," he groaned, neck arched into his teeth.

Hannibal moaned at that, and bit Will's jaw, unwinding Will's legs from around his hips to pull them over his shoulders again.

"And you are a /feast/,” Hannjbal moaned, fucking Will more deeply like this."

"Yes," he groaned, legs hooked over Hannibal's shoulders, taking him in deeper, brutalizing his prostate in the process.

"You like it when I'm rough with you," Hannibal moaned, and bit a mark into the inside of Will's thigh.

Will never thought he'd be the type, but Hannibal made him love it. He hissed at the bite, groaning into the air.

"I do..."

Hannibal bit harder, sinking his teeth into Will's raw, flexing muscle with a groan, and sucked as he rutted his cock against Will's prostate, lost in a hellish mixture of pleasure and power.

"Hannibal-" he groaned, feeling himself reach that peak far too soon, but the mixture of pain and pleasure was /too/ much.

"Please..."

"Please what?" Hannibal asked, his lips redder with the blood that beaded around the purple, possessive wound in Will's thigh.

He adored the sound of Will begging.

He couldn't even answer, he was too busy coming again, hard and fast, against his own stomach, convulsing.

Hannibal watched, his eyes struggling to take /all/ of Will in at once, every rush of blood under his skin, the way he arched, the way he coated his stomach, everything.

"Will-" Hannibal gasped, and gritted his teeth before he moaned something in a language Will would not know, and almost shouted as he came, buried deep in Will's body.

Will tightened himself around Hannibal, clenching and writhing beneath him. He tugged on his shoulders and brought him in for a sloppy, languid kiss.

Hannibal grunted with primal pleasure when Will squeezed around him, and opened his eyes to gaze at Will before he laid over him, and kissed him slowly.

"Terrible boy ..."

"You love me this way," Will grinned, not sure when he loved being called terrible or boy, but he did.

"Of course I do," Hannibal whispered, lovingly, and nuzzled Will's throat, unable to get enough of adoring him.

"I could do this forever with you," he laughed, sure that someday Hannibal would get bored with him.

"I would be quite happy with that arrangement," Hannibal purred, and stared into the blue of Will's eyes. He knew, and had known for some time that there was nothing else, no one else for him. Only Will.

"Really?" The talk of kids seemed just like something couples did but never really /did/. He was... pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, of course. I cannot imagine being without you," Hannibal whispered, sincerely.

Will smiled and wrapped his long legs around Hannibal, trapping him against his body.

"I can't either."

Hannibal nuzzled his nose against Will's then kissed him, drawing the kiss out until he shivered, and scooped Will into his arms again, carrying him back to where they sat before.

"Can you fish from my lap?"

"I could," he laughed, and let Hannibal take them back, and sat on him, taking his rob in hand again.

Hannibal reached one long arm back, and took a blanket, wrapping it around them both so that Will could fish.

He kissed the back of Will's neck, and breathed in his scent.

"I adore you."

Naked and ice fishing was not something he thought they would ever do, but he wasn't complaining. Hannibal made do a lot of things he never would.

"And I you."

Hannibal took the opportunity to caress Will's arms with his hands, and admired the line of his shoulders.

"Strange, we are in ways such opposites..."

"Perhaps that is what keeps us together," Will offered with a little smile at Hannibal.

"Opposites attract, that much is true, it holds the world together, quite literally," Hannibal whispered, and caressed Will's chest under the blanket.

Will leaned back and snuggled into Hannibal's chest, loosening up under his touch all over again.

"True."

Hannibal brushed his lips up the side of Will's neck, then bit his earlobe, softly.

"I might take an interest in fishing if this is what it's like."

Will shivered at the feeling, wondering how many trips he could get Hannibal to take with him if he promised this.

"It could be like this."

"I could, then, be persuaded to take an interest in the hobby," Hannibal purred, and picked up his glass of wine again, sipping as he held Will.

Will beamed at that, and went to sipped off Hannibal's drink too, with a grin, and then back to fishing.

"Good."

"How long does it usually take one to catch a fish?" Hannibal asked, as he brushed a drop of wine off of Will's lip with his thumb.

"Well if I was interrupted, we might have had one by now," Will said, with a tease.

Hannibal laughed quietly at Will's sass, and kissed the spot behind his ear:

"Very well, I shall endeavor not to distract you any longer. My /deepest/ apologies."

"I don't mind though," he said, quietly, looking back at Hannibal again, from under his long lashes.

Hannibal gazed back, utterly enchanted every time WIll looked at him like that, and sighed.

"Would you allow me to sketch you sometime?"

Will snorted.

"Sketch me?" He'd never been sketched, but he'd seen Hannibal's, and was sure he'd create some likeness of him that looked nothing like him at all.

"You are exquisite," Hannibal whispered, honestly, as he stared at Will's profile.

"I'm dumbfounded that you are so utterly unaware of your beauty."

"Should I?" he asked, as if that were something he just simply didn't notice, or listen to from many. He was good at deflecting interest.

"I do not consider a healthy amount of vanity to be a sin," Hannibal smirked, and brushed his lips against Will's cheek.

"Particularly when one is so deserving of it."

He rolled his eyes as the line tugged, and he reeled in their first fish. He unhooked the thing and set it in the bucket.

"You're good luck after all."

Hannibal laughed, and let Will set his fish aside, watching with detached interest as it flopped around in the bucket.

"You are the very first to tell me anything of the sort."

Will gave him a 'yeah right' look over his shoulder.

"I doubt that."

"I am many things for many people, but a talisman of good luck has never been one of them," Hannibal said, smoothly, and watched the fish die.

"For some, I am quite the opposite."

Will just hummed, baiting his hook, and let it sink back into the icy water.

"Not for me."

"No, not for you," Hannibal whispered warmly into Will's ear, and finished his wine, then set the glass down again before holding him with both arms.

He recalled something else Will said, earlier.

"Am I really forbidden from attending your classes?"

Will rolled his eyes but let Hannibal hold him close like this, rocking a little.

"You'd be the worst distraction."

Hannibal tutted and kissed the top of Will's bare shoulder.

"I'd behave, I'd wear a nice suit..."

"You always wear a nice suit," Will said, squirming back on Hannibal's lap.

Hannibal's dark eyes went half-closed, and he sighed in Will's ear, then ran one hand down his thigh.

"/Particularly/ nice, then, something I'm sure you'd like," Hannibal murmured, and traced his fingers over the bite he'd left in Will's thigh.

Will groaned under his breath, leaning into Hannibal's lips. "After hours... only."

"And miss watching all your students gazing at you in a smitten fashion?" Hannibal whispered back, and scraped his teeth over the lobe of Will's ear.

"What are you--"

Will turned to look Hannibal in the eye.

"Have you been spying?"

"Of course not," Hannibal purred, and stared back at Will.

"It's hardly difficult to imagine your students, only a few years younger than you are, have noticed your incredible good looks."

"It's not..." He sighed, and shook his head, hair falling into his eyes.

"They don't."

Hannibal brushed the curls out of Will's eyes, and arched one eyebrow at him.

"Shall we make a wager?"

"What's the wager first?" He asked, brow raised. He didn't make bets often if he wasn't sure he /could/ win.

"I will attend your class on Monday and unobtrusively record your students as they walk past you to exit the class. If not one of them gives you a longing look, you win," Hannibal offered.

"What do I win?" It seemed easy enough, none of his students looked at him that way. Not one.

"What might you like to win?" Hannibal asked, with keen interest, and smiled at Will with a gleam in his eyes.

"You started this." He hummed, not sure what he could ask for that Hannibal didn't already freely give him.

"There must be something you would find exciting or amusing that I would ordinarily disapprove of," Hannibal purred, enjoying the process of coaxing something Will really wanted out of him in a devilish tone as he ran his hand over Will's chest under the blanket.

"You in plaids and flannel," Will mused, snuggling back into Hannibal.

"If you win?"

Hannibal snorted against the back of Will's neck, and squeezed his arms around Will with a smirk.

"In turn, I am permitted to dress you as I like, and you will attend the Opera with me for an evening," Hannibal smiled.

Will groaned, not use in hiding it.

"Fine. Deal."

Hannibal laughed, and turned Will's head to kiss him, to seal the deal.

"Very well, I look forward to seeing the outcome," he chuckled, his dark eyes alight with confidence.

"You'll see. Those students want nothing from me," Will insisted, against Hannibal's lips.

Hannibal laughed at that, a deep, rich sound rolling from his chest, and kissed Will again.

"And you will see that you are quite wrong, no matter how wonderfully perceptive you can be."

"No one has ever wanted me so much as to do anything about it but you," Will said, not sure he liked the idea of himself being unknowing.

"I am, luckily, bolder than many of your students," Hannibal guessed, with a smile and a kiss to Will's neck.

"A great deal more self-assured, and aware of your incredible rarity. I could not allow any chance of our involvement to pass me by."

Will snorted at that, and shook his head.

"What if I had told you to shove off? Or Poptart hated you?"

Hannibal laughed, and looked at the sleeping dog who had snuggled up in a blanket of her own near Will's feet.

"I would have found a way to persuade you both," Hannibal whispered.

"However would we have met if I weren't stabbed that night?" he mused, leaning back to kiss Hannibal softly on the mouth.

"Who knows?" Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will back, slowly, becoming absorbed in the brush and lock of their lips that thrilled him every time.

"But I am certain we would have."

Will smiled; he wasn't so sure about that, but maybe.

"Well, we know Alana..." he shrugged.

"Perhaps one day your professional duties might weigh too heavily on your mind, your empathy might have grown too heavy a burden to bear alone. Assuming I had gone into psychiatry, Alana may have referred you to me?" Hannibal asked, almost able to see it in his head.

Will rolled his eyes.

"Only because she won't do it herself." He's almost glad about that, he preferred Hannibal anyway, his own personal therapist without the weird burden of one.

"Why do you think that is?" Hannibal asked as he wound his arms around Will's waist, and rested his chin against Will's bare shoulder.

"She wants to be my friend, doesn't want professional opinions to get in the way," Will explained, nuzzling Hannibal's head with his own.

"Only your friend?" Hannibal asked, in a speculative tone as he nuzzled Will in return. It was impossible not to imagine everyone else saw what he saw in Will, of course.

Will sighed; he didn't know. Alana was nice and all, but he wasn't really /in/ to girls so much.

"Maybe more? She never said."

"I would not be surprised," Hannibal said, with a look at Will, glad not to find any longing in his expression.

"But I am certainly glad I beat her to it."

"She likes you, I don't think she would mind us together if she knew," Will said, though he hadn't really been forthright with anyone about his personal life or whom he was dating.

It wouldn't be good for his job with Crawford if he knew his therapist was his boyfriend.

"She does not know?" Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head, and looked at Will's expression, curiously.

"I'm trying to keep it off Jack Crawford's desk that he hired my boyfriend to help me through consulting on murder cases," Will said, turning his face to look at Hannibal.

"I see," Hannibal nodded, not offended in the least. If anything, a slow smile spread over his sensually-shaped lips.

"Then, we are a secret affair?"

"For now," Will said, not sure how long he'd be doing this for Jack, honestly.

"You're not mad?"

Hannibal thought his answer over for a moment, his sharp jaw shifting a little as he looked at Will.

"I can understand why you'd feel the need to keep the nature of our relationship a secret, professionally. I would be upset, however, if you felt the need to maintain the same level of secrecy even if we were not working together."

Will shook his head.

"It's definitely not like that. I'd like to keep this job and help people for a while. Not forever maybe..."

"Maybe?" Hannibal repeated, a little disturbed by the implication that Will would might /forever/ pretend they were nothing more than colleagues.

"I like helping people, saving them," he sighed, as much as he liked teaching, and it helped him not have to /deal/ with a lot of people, knowing he'd helped save a life was /nice/ feeling.

"It's not like these killers are going to stop."

"There will always be killers," Hannibal murmured, his eyes going dark as his eyelashes shadowed over them, lit tawny by the candles around them.

"You cannot stop them all, Will. That is simply human nature."

"You're upset with me," Will stated, nosing Hannibal's high cheek bone.

"I am averse to a lifetime of our bond being hidden," Hannibal said, honestly, and looked up at Will with dark, warm eyes.

"A year, two years I can tolerate but a lifetime is a very long time for the fortunate."

Hannibal paused, and tilted his head.

"KIllers? You're pursuing another besides the Hobbs case?"

"There was a crime scene left in Hobbs home town, saw it later, no one noticed in the bustle of finding the one girl and Hobbs dying. A copy cat killer. Hobbs didn't present his kills, he used them, every last bit."

Will sighed, they hadn't seen Abigail in a few weeks, but Alana said that was best.

A slight wrinkle appeared in Hannibal's forehead when Will mentioned this copy-cat.

"What did this copy cat killer do?"

"Set a girl's body out on antlers. Maybe... field kabuki out of her," Will murmured, tensing around his shoulders now.

Hannibal rubbed Will's shoulders with his hands, soothing them as Will spoke.

"You did not mention it to me."

"I'd forgotten. there's been a few cases since. My mind has jumbled them together, a blur." He set the rod down and let Hannibal rub his shoulders.

"What was your impression of the scene? Of this killer?" Hannibal asked softly, and rubbed Will's shoulders with strong hands, then moved them up to Will's neck.

"Elegance in murder. Art."

He sighed heavily under Hannibal's hands, unaware he had tensed up, talking about work.

"Did you find it repulsive?" Hannibal asked, curiously, as his hands kneaded Will's warm, living flesh, so different than the stiffening, cold flesh of the girl dropped on the stag's antlers.

Will thought about it a little more.

"Repulsive? No..."

"What did you feel?" Hannibal asked, with his lips brushing the edge of Will's ear, his voice a dark whisper.

"It was beautiful. For being murder."

He looked over his shoulder at Hannibal.

"I wish I could have seen it with you," Hannibal murmured, and tucked one of Will's curls behind his ear.

"Do you think this killer will strike again?"

"It was in Minnesota..." Will said, calmly, turning to tuck his arms around Hannibal. "I doubt it."

Hannibal sighed, and nodded, holding Will when he turned toward him. He kissed his cheek, tenderly, then his lips.

"Are you ready to go home? Or would you like to linger?"

Those head aches were coming back, and he knew it'd be a rough night of sleep now. "We have until morning. Let's make the most of it.

"Very well," Hannibal agreed, and cupped his hand against Will's cheek, then kissed his lips slowly, and deeply, unable to tear himself away from Will.

"Hungry?"

Will groaned a little, always too aware of how Hannibal had a way with him.

"Yes."

"What for?" Hannibal asked with a subtle arch of one lightly-haired eyebrow, and a brush of his lips over Will's pulse under skin that looked like china.

His pulse picked up, not sure /how. it was possible to want Hannibal /again/.

"You..."


End file.
